I nodded and held back my own emotions. “I hear you, Grant.”
“And God knows I fucking love you, but god damn, woman, love isn’t supposed to hurt like this! If you had told me… we could’ve worked it out—”
Maybe… maybe not. That baby-killer comment makes me a little skeptical.
“I’m signing the divorce papers, and I want you gone.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Grant
“Grant? Are you here, son?” I heard my father call out as I slipped in and out of consciousness. The coolness of the bathroom floor tile pressed against my cheek was the only thing keeping me coherent.
I knew I needed to pull myself together before he found me in my current state, but it was too late. He was in the house, meaning he was weaving his way through a path of destruction. I kicked Kiyah out with a warning to stay the hell away from me and proceeded to trash the house. I didn’t give a fuck about the thousands of dollars in damage because it was a perfect reflection of our relationship. The holes in the walls represented the emptiness I felt when she left; the sound of the sheets tearing reminded me of my heart ripping in two when she confessed we lost a child, and the broken glass strewn across the house reminded me of the fragile pieces of my reality that could never be pieced together again.
I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known this would’ve been the outcome. I should’ve known better. I should’ve left the past in the past and remained blissfully ignorant and in love. But I wanted to know… I had to know I wasn’t the reason. I could understand her hesitancy because she wasn’t wrong; finding outwe lost a child would’ve sent me hurtling into depression and resentment, but seven years….
“Oh, Grant,” Dad whispered when he found me on the floor next to a pool of vomit that missed the toilet. His reality was crashing because he was discovering that his perfect son wasn’t so perfect after all. The clone of a son he raised couldn’t be more unrecognizable.
I can only imagine what he’s thinking. He probably thinks I’m a fuck up like my mother and that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
The disappointment in his voice made me want to crawl deeper into that dark hole I was wallowing in. I wanted to claw at the bottom of the well I found myself in—past the dirt, roots, and rocks until I couldn’t dig anymore. I didn’t want to be seen by him, not when my vulnerabilities and weaknesses were laid bare.
“Grant, did you take any pills?”
I cleared my throat that ached from alcohol and bile before answering, “I’m not my mother.”
“I know you aren’t, son, but I need to know if I need to call medical services.”
“No… I didn’t try to kill myself if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“Can I help you up?”
It took a minute for him to wrangle me against the vanity. I whispered a “thank you” when he handed me a cool towel. The bathroom fell silent—neither wanting to address the elephant in the room. Unsurprisingly, I was the one who spoke first.
“You heard from Kiyah.”
“I did.”
I grimaced.
“Did she tell you why she left?”
“She did, and she revealed that you’ve been suffering from alcoholism all these years.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” I remarked, staring off into space.
“I’d be lying if I said you didn’t, and let’s be clear, I’m not disappointed because you’re battling alcoholism, but because you, Kiyah, and Casey hid it from me. I could’ve gotten you the help you needed sooner.”
No argument there.
“Did Kiyah take off?”
“Do you care?”
“I’ll always care,” I answered. And that was the cold, hard truth. It didn’t fucking matter what she put me through or how much it hurt to love her; I’d still care.
“She’s at home, and shocking enough, she plans on staying.”
