“The best parent? What parent? You weren’t a parent at all.”
“I know.” He chokes on a sob, tears filling his eyes, and the saddest part is, I don’t believe him for a second. He’s so good at acting that I no longer can tell when something is true or not.
“How long?”
“A few months,” he grumbles.
“And instead of calling me, you got wasted and decided to come here, blame me for Mom’s death again, and punch me in the face? You think that will make me give you a piece of my liver?”
“I’m so sorry. I don’t remember any of that. I only remember waking up. I know it was wrong of me to come here. I know it. You’re all I have. You’re all I’ve ever had, and I know I have no right to ask you to do this for me. Not after everything I’ve done, but I don’t want to die.”
“Then maybe you should have thought about that before you drank yourself to death!” I roar so loud that anyone who’s outside in the hall can hear me.
I take a fortifying breath, trying to regain my peace. Fuck, he’s so good at that. He is so good at disrupting my peace. Not that I think I’ve ever had any, but he’s good at making sure I’m no longer numb.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t do this for me.”
I lose it. I laugh. I laugh so hard I have tears running down my face and I have to bend over, press my palms to my thighs, and calm myself.
“You wouldn’t blame me?” I continue to laugh, unable to control my reaction to the sheer fucking audacity he has to say that to me. “That’s all you do is blame me. You’d find a way to haunt me and blame me if you could. You blame me for everything in your life and you’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to allow that to happen.”
I rub a hand down my face, then place my hands on my hips and stare up at the ceiling to try and figure out what I’m going to say.
“This is what’s going to happen. I’m going to get tested to see if I’m a match. If I am, I’ll donate. I’ll give you your liver.”
“Oh my god. Thank you, Elias. Thank you. I will?—”
I raise my hand to stop him just as the door opens to reveal Dr. Washington standing there.
“Is everything okay? I heard shouting and we really need to make sure your father stays calm.”
“I’m almost done here. You can stay. I don’t mind,” I say, my voice kind and soft when it comes to her. I’ll never be rude to my coworker. It isn’t her fault my father is who he is.
I turn to him, the room that was once cold now hot with emotion. “This is what is going to happen, and these are the terms for you getting my liver. You’re never going to contact me again. You’re going to forget about me. You’re going to forget I’m your son and you’re never going to interrupt my life again. You’ll have your fresh start and what you do with it is not my concern. You’ll finally leave me be. You’ll let me live my life, so I no longer have to worry about you. There won’t be a chance of us reuniting. There won’t be a maybe or someday or wishful thinking. I’m done. I’m done, do you understand? This is the last fucking thing you will ever get from me. Am I clear?”
Silent tears roll down his cheeks, devastation paling him further. “Elias, don’t do this. Please. I’m going to get better.”
“That’s great, Dad. That’s great. I want that for you.” I blink away tears. I had no idea cutting him completely out of my life would hurt so bad, considering I’ve lived the majority of my life without him. “But I don’t want to be a part of it any longer. You can let Dr. Washington know your decision. If you’ll excuse me, I have patients I need to see.”
I swallow, walking out of the room to allow Dr. Washinton to do her job.
“Dr. Carrington,” she whispers with worry, her hand grabbing my forearm.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’m going to go get tested.”
Her lips twist into a sad, close-lipped smile, and she lets her hand drop to her side to allow me to leave.
Without looking back at my father, I march down the hall to get as much space as possible from him.
I lost both parents when my mom died, and it’s odd to bury the other so many years later.
8
OLIVIA
I’m ploppedon my couch with a big glass of wine in my hand, celebrating my promotion. I’m alone in my apartment, the TV is off, and the only sound is the fan whirling up above.
I’m proud of myself. It’s been a while since I’ve felt that way. I haven’t told anyone yet; I’ve been basking in the happiness of it. Dr. Warrick notices my hard work, and so many bosses don’t do that. Most places don’t want to pay anyone more than they already have to.
