Sex has never been so fun before.
Me:You should be. I’m going to use him so hard, so good. You’ll be able to feel it while you’re at work.
Mr. Wrong Number:That’s just cruel. You’re mean.
The laughs consume me, the lightness in my chest new and exciting. My cheeks hurt, my heart is warm, and my mind isclear. Is this how life is supposed to feel? Weightless and filled with possibilities?
Me:I can’t wait to meet you.
Mr. Wrong Number:I can’t wait to hold you.
It’s the truth. I’m not sure I can wait. Two weeks is far too long.
Two days seems like an eternity.
Two hours seems like a lifetime.
And two seconds isn’t soon enough.
Me:You’re the kind of person I see myself falling in love with.
I don’t press send. That’s too much too soon.
I tap the delete button until the words are no longer on the screen.
17
ELIAS
“Dr. Carrington,I received your test results, and you are a match for your father. I haven’t told him yet. I figured you’d want to.” Dr. Washington stands in front of me, professional, a streak of gray hair framing her face. Even cloaked in professionalism, I see the hesitancy in her eyes.
I was having a good day. No, that’s terrible. That sounds like I don’t want to help my father or that I’m upset that I’m a match. I’m not. I figured I would be, but yes, there was a small part, the tiniest darkest part of me, that wondered if I’d be able to breathe easier if he was gone. For good.
It’s dark. It’s a twisted, fucked-up thought, but I’m so fucking exhausted of saving him when he never wants to save himself. So tired of his constant abuse. Even though I’m a grown fucking man in my forties, every time he comes around, the child inside me rises, and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of him.
I need this relationship to be done. To be over.
“I’ll tell him. It would be best if it came from me. Thanks for telling me, Dr. Washington.” My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I want nothing more than to check it to see if it’s her.
I sent my package, no pun intended, to her today, and I’m curious what her reaction will be. She’s probably at work.
It hits me then—I don’t really know what she does. But I don’t care in the slightest.
“If you’re sure.” Dr. Washington’s voice pulls me from the wandering thoughts again. “It’s really no problem. I understand the relationship between you and your father isn’t…ideal.”
“It’s okay. It’s best if I talk to him.”
She purses her lips in concentration, the wheels spinning in her head. I know she thinks her speaking to him would be better, considering how she was a witness to the last conversation I had with my father.
It didn’t go very well.
“I’m sure. We can go ahead and schedule the surgery. I want to get it done and over with.” Annoyance wells up in my chest again. The same feeling I always get when it comes to my father.
“Do you have a support system for this surgery, Dr. Carrington? You can’t be by yourself. You’ll need help after a massive surgery like this.”
“I know. I do. I’ll be fine.”
She doesn’t believe me, given how her eyes narrow. She clicks her pen. “I don’t know why, but I don’t believe you, and until I know for sure you have a support system for this surgery, I’m not scheduling anything.”
