“Get off of me,” he shouts.
“Not until you’re calm, and I will stay like this all night if I have to.”
It takes some time, but he finally says, “Okay, I’m good,” and then I let go, keeping my guard up just in case. “I think you should just leave.”
“Danny, please, I’m your father and I want to help you,” I tell him, feeling emotion clawing away inside of me.
“I don’t want or need your help,” he says, the distaste for me returning.
“Come on, son, you have to know that I love you and that I never wanted to be parted from you. I took you to the park, I fed you in the middle of the night when you were a baby, I saw you take your first steps, and I took you to the doctors when you were sick.” I feel the tears starting to clog my throat, but I have to keep going. “I nursed you through colic, I changed your nappies, I bathed you, and you slept in my damn bed when you were teething.
“I can’t lose you, Danny, you’re my son. I don’t know what I did wrong, and I don’t understand why you hate me so much.”
He just stares at me as I threaten to break in front of him, and then he walks forward, until he’s stood right in front of me, his face deadpan as he says, “You lost me years ago, so do us both a favour and just give up already.”
And then he leaves the room, and I feel like my heart is fucking broken. I don’t know when I walk out of his place, and I don’t know when I get back home. I feel numb, all of the happiness I was feeling just yesterday has gone. My son hates me. He wants nothing to do with me.
“Just give up already.”
I’ve totally lost him, and it’s even more clear now that I never really had him in the first place.
* * *
I wake to the sound of pounding on the front door, and groggily, I sit up and take a moment to get my bearings. For a few seconds, the pain isn’t there, but then it hits me like a fucking freight train, and I want whoever is at the door to just leave me the hell alone. But as they keep knocking, I guess I’m not going to get my silent wish, and I push up from the sofa, making my way to the door on what feels like fucking Bambi legs.
I fiddle with the damn lock as I try to wake up a little more, having no idea how long I’ve been out for. And when I finally get the damn thing undone, there’s Anthony stood there, looking all kinds of pissed off. I guess he better join the queue. I turn and walk back into the lounge, not saying a word because I have nothing to give at this moment in time.
“Where the hell were you?” he shouts as he follows me, the front door slamming and echoing around the house.
“Not now, Anthony,” I warn. He’s my boss, and my friend, but so help me, I am not in the right frame of mind to be dealing with whatever he came here to cuss me out for.
“Not now? You bet your fucking arse we’re doing this now, Caleb, so I’ll ask you again… where the hell were you whilst the meeting was running with Saltche, you know, the world’s biggest fucking diamond merchant?”
“Oh shit,” I say, my hand running over my face, because I had absolutely forgotten about that after seeing Danny. I’d only nipped to Danny’s on my lunch break, but then I’d fallen apart and erased everything but my plight from my mind.
“What happened?” he says as I finally look at him and see his eyes land on the bottle of bourbon on the side and the glass next to it.
“Danny,” I say with a sigh, and then Anthony walks from the room, only to come back in a few minutes later with two mugs, placing one in my hand as he takes a seat on the other sofa and makes himself comfortable.
“Come on then, what’s he done now?” Anthony asks, almost like he’s slightly bored of hearing about him. I feel my hackles rise from the blasé way he speaks. He might be my boss, but when he’s here, he’s my friend, mostly, and I’ll throw him out before he can say anything too bad about my son.
“Don’t be so fucking flippant,” I bite, which would make most people cower ever so slightly, but not Anthony. He may be a year older than me, but I know he likes to box and take care of himself, just like I do, and I guess us being friends first helps. My head is all over the fucking place. I don’t even know what to think first.
“I’m not being flippant, Caleb, but this isn’t exactly news. Danny’s always giving you shit,” he stresses, and my lips form a tight line. “What did he do?”
And with a sigh, I settle on the simplest answer possible… “He told me I lost him years ago and to just give up already.”
When Anthony doesn’t reply, I look over at him, and for some reason, despite the despair I’m feeling, he doesn’t look shocked. He looks… like he expected this to happen, somehow.
“Can I be honest with you?” he says.
“I have a feeling you’re going to be anyway,” I mutter, bracing myself for whatever he is about to say.
“Caleb, I’ve watched you over the years, seeing how much Danny has turned you away or made you feel guilt for actions that were beyond your control. You had him young, and you’ve done nothing but try to be there for him. Anyone would be able to see that. But surely, there comes a point where you just have to stop trying, because the only person who you’re fucking up here is yourself.
“And I know I don’t have any kids of my own, but I can see how much of a toll all of this has taken on you. I know I will never truly understand the loss you are feeling right now, but maybe it’s time youdostop. Maybe you concentrate on your life and what matters most to you now, rather than trying to battle the toxicity of this whole situation anymore.”
“And just give up on my kid?” I ask, aghast that he is even suggesting it.