Matthew sucked in a withering breath and opened the conversation. “I guess I want to start by saying that I’m sorry.”
It was the truth, but Matthew wasn’t convinced that the truth was enough. He’d gone out of his way to hurt his father. At this point, saying sorry felt like putting a Band-Aid over a bullet wound.
Matthew worried his finger over his thumbnail, trying to feel its ridges without much success. When his father said nothing, he continued to speak. “I knew Damien was your friend, but I went after him anyway. I want to tell you that it was irresponsible and that I won’t do it ever again… but I can’t. I have feelings for him. From the second we met, I had feelings.” Matthew chewed on his bottom lip and picked at his thumbnail, not daring to look at his father’s face. “If I could go back in time, I’d do what I did all over again. I mean, except for the part where I was an absolute dick to you yesterday. I’m not proud of that.Thatwas stupid and irresponsible, and I wish I would have handled it better.”
There was a long silence followed by a gentleclickas his father laid his glasses on the countertop. Matthew lifted his head, sure that he’d find his father furious, but discovered that was far from the case. His father cradled his head in his hand, his eyes covered but his mouth exposed. Pain pinched his lips together.
Matthew didn’t consider his father an emotional man. He viewed life through a logical lens and seldom allowed himself to get flustered. At least, that was how he’d been until he’d met Alex. Every year, a little more emotion peeked through his straight-faced facade.
“Dad?” Matthew asked nervously.
His father lifted his head and blinked several times, seemingly to try to rid himself of his discomfort. It only partially worked. Worry dulled his eyes. “All of this is a mess. I wish it never would have happened.”
Matthew lowered his head.
He couldn’t say the same.
“After what happened yesterday, Harley sat me down for a talk.” His father pushed a hand through his hair, pulling it back from his forehead. At length, he picked up his glasses and slotted them back into place so they sat high on his nose. “There were some things he said that I disagree with, but parts of our discussion opened my eyes to the fact that this situation is complex, and as much as I want to shunt the blame away from myself, I’m not innocent in this.”
“What?” Matthew frowned. “Dad, what are you talking about?”
For a while his father delayed by tracing his fingers over the handle of the mug, then, when he couldn’t put it off anymore, he looked at Matthew. The sorrow dulling his eyes had given way to something else—something he’d apparently tried, and failed, to keep buried. It looked a lot like regret. “I haven’t been fair to you.”
The statement was so baffling, Matthew didn’t know what to say. His father had provided for him all through his childhood, and instead of throwing him out after he’d gotten pregnant, he’d taken every step necessary to make sure Matthew’s pregnancy went smoothly, and that Emily would have everything she needed when she came into the world. He’d provided food, shelter, and employment when Matthew couldn’t make things work on his own, and he’d agreed to pay for childcare when Matthew had announced his plans to go back to school.
There was nothing unfair about that.
“Harley said that the people we love the most are the ones we hurt the most.” Matthew’s father’s voice was thin, and if he pushed himself any further, Matthew was concerned it would break. “We all guard our hearts jealously, and we hoard the people who make us feel our best like possessions because of it. It’s why breaking up hurts so much, and why friendships that ended on bad terms years ago still nag at the back of our minds. And you…” He closed his eyes and let out a steady breath that deflated the tension in his body. “You’re one of the people I keep locked tight in my heart—one of the people who brings me the greatest joy. I was by your side when you first learned to walk, and I was there to say goodbye on your first day of school. I taught you how to brush your teeth and how to shave. I’ve seen you swing from the bars of a jungle gym grinning ear to ear, the happiest you’ve ever been in your life, and I’ve seen what it looks like when your world falls apart.” Worry overtook the regret in his eyes. “Yet five years ago, I couldn’t keep you safe when Jason was abusing you, and even if I could have, you wouldn’t have wanted me to. You grew up.” His voice cracked on the last word, but the sorrow was gone when he spoke again. “The boy in my heart stayed the same.”
The slow, steady thump of Matthew’s heart pounded in his ears. Pressure built in his sinuses, bringing on tears that gathered in his eyes only to be blinked away.
“When you told me that you were pregnant with Emily, it was the first time I realized that the Matthew I’d locked away didn’t exist anymore. The little boy who’d given me purpose after Ann left was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it.” His father’s fingers traced down the mug, then stilled. “Except I did do something—I just didn’t realize it.”
Silence. The air was so thick with difficult emotion, Matthew struggled to breathe. He wanted to butt in—to put an end to his father’s suffering and apologize for having caused him so much grief—but he knew better. Festering wounds never healed unless they were flushed. The only way this would ever get better was if they talked it out.
“I kept you.” The confession pierced the heavy silence. His father pinched his lips together, racked by the confession. “I remembered the helplessness I felt when you looked at me with dead eyes and laughed like you’d given up on life, and I never wanted to feel that way again, so I trapped you here with promise of food and shelter and employment. I stunted who you could have been because I wanted you to stay the way you were—the boy I remembered, not the man you were growing into. I thought that by keeping you safe, I could keep us both happy.” He hung his head. “But after what you said to me yesterday, that isn’t the case, is it?”
Matthew dragged his arm across his eyes, clearing them of unshed tears. “Dad, no… I… I blew up at you yesterday. I’m sorry for what I said.”
“But it’s true.”
Matthew stared at the countertop. He couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t. His father had always treated him more like a child than a capable adult, and now he understood why.
“Knot is a good man,” his father said softly. “We may not always agree, but I know his heart is in the right place. I know he’d never abuse you like Jason did. Despite the things I said, I wasn’t angry yesterday because I think he’s a bad person—I was angry because he took the boy I love and showed him that he could be the man he’s supposed to be.”
Matthew sniffled, then laughed to try to stave off his tears. “Dad, I’m still your son. Me growing up isn’t going to change that. I’m not gonna love you any less because Damien is in my life.”
“I know. All I need is some time to come to terms with it.”
“So you’re not angry?” Matthew hesitated. “I mean, you’re not angry at Damien? You’ll give him a chance? You’re not going to make him leave the Single Dads?”
“No.” His father snorted. “I’m not saying that it won’t be awkward for a while, but he’s not the cause of this problem—he’s just a convenient scapegoat. I can’t keep pinning the blame on him or I’ll never feel better about this, and I’ll never come to love and appreciate you for the man you’ve become.”
Matthew smiled. It wobbled, but persisted. “Thank you.”
“I love you, kiddo.” His father lifted his gaze and looked Matthew in the eyes. He smiled, too. “I’m sorry for flying off the handle.”
“You weren’t the only one.”
