Wyatt curled up in bed and tried to forget today had happened. He heard his door open and squeezed his eyes shut. A moment later his mattress dipped, and a warm hand pressed against his forehead.
“You feeling okay, kiddo?” Dad asked gently. “Justin said you had a headache. I brought you a juice and some Tylenol.”
“I just want to sleep it off,” Wyatt mumbled, keeping his back turned to Dad.
“They’re on your nightstand if you need them.” Dad rubbed his back gently, like he’d done for Wyatt for years now whenever he got sick. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Wyatt mumbled. He kept his eyes closed as Dad leaned over and kissed his temple, the hair of his beard tickling.
“Okay,” Dad echoed softly. “Love you, Wy.”
“Love you too,” Wyatt whispered.
He waited until he heard his door snick shut before he started to cry again.
