“Listen.” He rubs the back of his neck, his eyes dropping before he forces them back up to mine. “I know I was a dick when we first met. I was going through some shit… still am…but that’s no excuse to take it out on you.”
“Oh,” I say quietly. “Uh…it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s not fine, Eli.” His glare is sharp, but not at me…at himself. “I was a prick. Not just to you. To everyone.”
I open my mouth, but he raises his hand, and I snap it shut.
“Just let me get this out without you interrupting,” he says, voice near begging.
I nod.
“I have a cough,” he starts, and I nod again. I’ve heard it. My dad used to call it a smoker’s cough. Which makes sense since I’ve seen Knuckles with a cigarette a few times. The man wheezes so hard sometimes he has to stop working at the garage just to drink water or catch his breath.
“After coughing for months, I finally dragged myself to get checked out about a year ago,” he says. “Found out I’m stage four lung cancer.”
My breath catches.
Cancer.
“Docs don’t reckon I have long left,” he continues. “Few months now. Probably less. I was pissed. How the hell could I have cancer? I don’t smoke. I take care of my body. I was happy with my life…minus the cough. Didn’t tell anyone. Figured I’d fight it alone till the end.”
His voice tightens.
“But anger festers. I’d look around and see everybody living their lives, no idea when they’re gonna go. None of them know there’s a ticking time bomb in all of us. ButIknew. Mine was loud as hell. Every time I saw someone complain… someone wasting time… someone being lazy… I’d get pissed. Why were they wasting time they didn’t know they had, when I was running out of mine?”
He swallows hard.
“It wasn’t until I stepped back and saw the way I treated you that I realized I was becoming someone I fucking despised. I saw my brothers pushing me away. Skip kicking my ass was the knock on the head I needed.”
He huffs a humorless laugh.
“A few days ago, I finally told them what I’ve been going through. Told them that in two, maybe three months… I’ll be dead.”
The kitchen feels too small. Too quiet.
“None of that excuses how I treated you,” he says. “I regret that more than you’ll ever know. And now that I know about your condition… what can happen when you overdo it… I feel like an even bigger asshole.”
“You didn’t know,” I whisper.
“And you didn’t know about me,” he whispers back.
“Do you have any family?” I ask.
“Just the Shadows,” he answers simply.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “Me either.”
Silence wraps around us, heavy but… not uncomfortable. Understanding settles in.
“I forgive you,” I say quietly. “Do you think… maybe we could be friends?”
Knuckles pushes back his chair and stands, palms braced on the table for a moment before he looks at me.
“No,” he says.
My chest sinks a little.
Then he steps around the table, stops right in front of me, and his voice softens in a way I’ve never heard from him.
