“You love him, don’t you?” Brian responds. “You’re in love with my dad. You’ve always been.”
All the fight goes out of me at his abrupt question.
I sag under my own weight. I sag under the weight of my feelings.
All this time, I thought Mr. Edwards hated me. All this time, I thought if he poured out all his anger on me, he’d be free.
Most of all, I thought I came here just to apologize.
None of that is true, is it?
He doesn’t hate me. He’s not angry with me, either. And I didn’t come here just to apologize.
I came here because I’m not over him. I was never over him.
In fact, what I feel for him is bigger. So much bigger than I gave myself permission to even think about. It’s always been bigger.
It’s been that way since the day I saw him through the window of my bedroom.
“Yeah. I do. I love your dad, Brian. I’ve always loved him. Ever since I was sixteen.”
And he wants me.
I found out about Brian just after my father had died.
I was alone, sad, angry, all ready to leave for college in the fall when Cynthia – the girl I’d hooked up with weeks ago – called me out of the blue and told me about him.
If I was scared and feeling alone before, I was fucking terrified after that. I didn’t know how to take care of a kid. I didn’t want to take care of a kid. I’d just finished taking care of my drunk father. I didn’t want another responsibility.
I wanted to get out of this town. I wanted to forget my life and do something… different. Than what I’d been doing up until then – cleaning up after my dad and playing ball.
But then, I saw him.
As soon as Cynthia put him in my arms, he began wailing and I forgot the things I wanted. I only knew I had to take care of him.
He was my kid. I had to be whatever he needed me to be. A protector, a cook, a storyteller, a soother.
I had to be there for him, my son. My blood.
I wasn’t going to let him down.
Until I did.
Actually, it was better when I was drunk. Things didn’t have an edge. Guilt didn’t pierce me this deeply, this excruciatingly.
I’m starting my truck to get back to the cabin after a long fucking day at the camp when my phone buzzes. It’s Brian.
I hit accept so fast that I almost smash the screen. “Hello?”
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, you okay?” I ask, hoarsely, thinking that maybe he’s calling because something is wrong and he needs me.
Because why the fuck would he call me after how we left things last time?
“Yeah, Dad, I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
I whoosh out a breath. “Okay, that’s good. Great.”
After a few moments of tense silence, he says, hesitantly, “Dad, I… I broke up with Fiona.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You were right. I had to do the right thing. I was doing it all for the wrong reasons. I was doing it to hurt people.”
A rock lodges itself in my throat and I somehow push it down to speak. “That’s… That’s good. How do you feel, though?”
“I’m okay. It wouldn’t have lasted long anyway.” Then, “Dad, I also realized something else.”
“Yeah? What?”
“I talked to her.”
The knife in my chest starts twisting at a mere mention of her and a throb starts up just under my rib cage.
“You did,” I almost choke out with relief.
“Yeah, I did,” he replies. “I talked to Vi and she forgave me for Fiona so easily. So fucking easily that it made me realize how much of a douchebag I’ve been. I let my ego rule. I got so pissed that I hurt the two most important people in my life. And the truth is that I didn’t know how to reach out to you, Dad, after everything I said. After the way I behaved, I didn’t know what to say to you…”
That rock tries to crawl up but I force it down again, even though it’s infinity times harder to do it this time. “Hey, it’s over now. It’s done. I’m proud of you.”
I am.
He did the right thing and besides, I didn’t know what to say to him, either. So it’s water under the bridge.
I’m glad we’re talking now.
“She deserves better, Dad. Vi deserves better. She deserves someone who doesn’t hurt her like I did. She deserves someone who puts her first.”
Now the pain in my chest is so tremendous that it radiates out to my whole body. I remember her words from last night.
Are you saying I’m… visible?
Jesus Christ.
I wanted to break something then. Punch something. Maybe even her parents.
“She does,” I say, at last.
“She deserves someone like you, Dad.”
“What?”
“There’s no excuse for how I behaved. I’m so fucking ashamed. There’s no way I can ever make up for it, for all the things I did to you over the past year, the way I froze you out, the things I said just to hurt you because I was angry. But Dad, I want you to know this. I want you to know that she deserves someone like you in her life. Someone good and noble. Someone who won’t hurt her. I claimed to have feelings for her and look at what I did. I got so lost in my ego. I was like, how does she not like me when every other girl does. How the fuck does she not like me, you know? And I stepped on everything that made our relationship special. She deserves someone who –”