“You two looked so much alike, and even though I still love you more than anything on this planet, I see him when I look at you. It breaks my heart knowing I can’t look my own daughter in the eyes without seeing my son, but it hurts knowing that I’ll never get to hug him again.”
I choke on my words, unable to get them out. My hands curl into fists, my nails digging into my palms so aggressively that I wince.
“There’s no excuse for how I’ve treated you, for not being there when you needed me most, and I promise that changesnow.” He grabs my hands, forcing me to hold his, and looks me in the eyes. “You are my world, the best parts of your mother and I, please let me make this up to you.”
I don’t want to hate my father, and I don’t want Jurian’s death to rip this family apart. He would hate the way we’ve been acting recently, probably scold the two of us for letting this get between us.
Jurian was always so proud to tell people that our family was close, this family mattered to him more than anything.
So even if I have a little resentment towards my dad, I have to push past it for J.
You have to push past it for yourself.
“I love you Papa,” I tell him, smiling weakly.
He pulls me into a tight hug, like the ones I would get when I was a kid. “This was not your fault, there was nothing you could have done to stop it.” I want to believe him, I really do, but maybe if I had just slowed down, I would have seen that truck coming. “Now, who’s this boy you’re interested in?”
“His name is Johnny.”
“Is he good?”
Nodding my head, I pull back. “He’s the kindest person I know, he has his own demons, but he never projects them onto others. He’s like Jurian was.”
His jaw ticks, his pale blue eyes boring into mine as he thinks. For the first time in a very long time, I really look at my father, noticing the way his eyes look a little too tired, and the grey hair that’s started to grow in despite it being completely black not too long ago.
He looks older —broken— and it hits me that he’s lost half his heart. He’s not the same man who would crack jokes at any given time, or blast music in the house and force Mom to dance with him. I haven’t heard them play in a very long time.
“Then why are you pushing him away?” He finally asks.
“Because I’m afraid to lose him.”
“You know, when I first met your mother, we kept telling everyone we were only friends, but both of us knew we were more than that.” He leans back against the frame of my bed and pulls me into his side, “I was terrified of losing her too, I didn’t want to mess up what we had, but I knew that it was going to be all or nothing, it was too hard otherwise.”
“So what did you do?”
I’ve never heard this side of their story before. I guess I’ve just always assumed that they met, fell madly in love, and then lived happily ever after.
“I kissed her, then walked away. I left the ball in her court, because whether she loved me back or not, I could live with the fact that I at least tried.” His smile is wide, wider than I’ve seen in years, but I guess that’s what happens when you love someone more than anything else in this entire world. “She chased after me, told me she needed time to figure out her feelings, but she didn’t want me to disappear. A day later, she was waiting on my doorstep in the pouring rain.”
That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard, but my smile mirrors my father’s nonetheless. I love hearing about their lives before J and I came into the picture, and I love how in love they are with one another even after twenty-five years of marriage.
“You gotta try Chiclet, don’t let fear choose when it should be your heart.”
I’m sitting on Johnny’s bed, waiting for him to get out of the shower, when Claire taps on the doorframe. Her long brown hair is pulled into a ponytail at the top of her head, small pieces hanging out framing her face effortlessly. Her bright blue eyes sparkle in the afternoon light, while her lips tip up in a smile.
It doesn’t take a genius to see that she’s beautiful, and it’s not hard to see why Lucas fell for her. In the shortmonth that I’ve known Claire Taylor, I’ve been able to see the side of her that everyone talks about, the side of her that makes everyone like her.
It’s hard not to like her.
“How’s it going?” She asks, taking a couple of steps into the room and sitting next to me.
“I’m good, you?”
She chuckles, “I can only ever be so good living with these boys. They’re a handful.”
That’s one way to put it.
When I walked in earlier, August had Blair in a headlock. The two of them were screaming over some video game while Lucas laughed hysterically from the couch.
