“I’d like you to come with me to the doctor’s office,” I told him over a tray of meat that tasted suspiciously like what Alexio had made me last night. I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t about to give him away, but it was making me feel things even more.
“Are you sure?” Nikos asked.
I nodded, swallowing down a massive mouthful of food. “Mm. I know you’re not going to be doing this forever, but you kind of know more about his daily life than I do. And I know that makes me the world’s shittiest son…”
“You’re not a shitty son,” my dad said quietly. I froze, and then my heart jumped when his dry, thin hand curled around my arm. “I was a shitty dad.” I had no fucking clue what to say to that. He let out a heavy sigh, squeezed my arm, then said, “When is your mom getting back from the store?”
I bowed my head. “Later this afternoon.”
“Okay.” He went silent again, and my chest fucking ached.
It was always going to be like this. I knew that. Except when it wasn’t like this, it was going to be worse. God, how did people go through this and survive it with their sanity intact?
“Jonah?”
I lifted my head and turned toward Nikos. “Mm?”
“Why don’t you let me take Peter home later? You can go ahead and head out now.”
“Oh, but…” I tapped my phone screen, and it read out the time. It wasn’t even three o’clock. “It’s early.”
“He likes it here,” Nikos said. “Don’t you, Peter?”
“I like it here. I didn’t know my son owned a restaurant,” my dad said. “Did you know my other sons play hockey?”
Fuck. “Yeah, Dad. They’re pretty good, eh?”
“It’s bullshit hockey. Blind hockey. They cheat.”
“They don’t cheat,” Nikos said. “I watch almost every game, and it’s such hard work.”
Dad scoffed. “Please. It’s bullshit hockey. Bullshit. You know, this is probably my wife’s fault, right? She wanted…she gave birth to Jonah, and he was so small. All…purple and sick. No eyes. We didn’t even know it right away. The nurses knew, but they were too afraid to tell us. I told her we should put him up for adoption and try again. She wouldn’t let me.”
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered.
Under the table, Nikos took my hand and squeezed.
“Guess it wouldn’t have mattered. Next one came out the same. Third one was better. Had eyes. Little ones. Couldn’t see shit, really, but he could catch a baseball. They all hated her, you know? Still hate her.”
I swallowed heavily. “I’m gonna…”
“Go,” Nikos murmured. He didn’t release my hand. “Can you call someone to stay with you?”
I shook my head. “It’s fine.”
“Jonah—”
“It’s fine.” I stood up, knocking the chair back, and it tipped over with a loud clatter. “Fuck. Fuck!”
Nikos’s chair squeaked across the linoleum as he stood up, and he grabbed me, yanking me into a hug. The pressure in my chest felt like it was going to explode, but all I could manage was a shaking sigh.
“I don’t know why it fucking matters,” I murmured against his chest. “I don’t even like him. I have never liked him, and this isn’t the first time he’s said shit like this. None of this is new information.”
Nikos rocked me gently. It reminded me a little bit of Alexio, only with Nikos, I didn’t want to turn my face up and kiss him. “It’s allowed to hurt, even if it isn’t new. You deserve better. You’vedeservedbetter your whole life. We’ll get this worked out.”
I swallowed heavily, then passed both hands down my face, but luckily, I wasn’t crying. Reaching for the table, I grazed my fingers over the top until I found my cane, then turned. “Point me toward the door, eh?”
Nikos did, squeezing my shoulders before letting go. “Call me if you need me.”
