“I know.”
He rubs his other hand over his mouth. “Sometimes it comes out wrong.”
I squeeze his fingers tightly. “It’s okay.”
For several minutes only the sound of our breathing can be heard in the pokey kitchen. Mine forced and measured, his erratic and trembling.
“I don’t want to have one of those illnesses, Fi,” he says, staring at the table.
My throat closes. “You don’t, Dad. It’s just a bit of forgetfulness, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”
He nods, but I’m not entirely certain he believes me. It breaks my heart to watch him come to terms with the possibility he might, in fact, have one ofthose illnesses. It’s too soon to broach that though, especially since I’ve only just come home.
I swallow down all the gray and dreary possibilities for now and update him on the latest hospital gossip while I clear and wash the plates, then I head to my room to unpack.
Halfway through unloading my bags, I get a text from Shane, my closest colleague at the hospital.
Shane: Hi honey, you there?
I type back.
Me: Yeah. Arrived after lunch
Shane: How is he?
I look through the open bedroom door toward the hall, where I can hear the television blaring loudly in the living room.
Me: Forgetful, but ok
Three dots appear, then vanish, then return.
Shane: I’m so sorry, Fi
I stare at the screen, blinking back tears.
Shane: You can always come back here when you need to
Her words undo me. There’s no coming back from this. Ican’t leave my father now, and even if the worst happens and I lose him, I couldn’t return to my old life and pick up where I left off. What’s happening here and now is life-altering. Things will never go back to being the same as they were.
I pause unpacking and find Dad watching a movie we must’ve watched twenty times together. I’m about to sit on the arm of the chair beside him when a hard knock comes at the door.
Dad looks up. “Are you expecting someone?”
“No.” No one knows I’m here except Shane.
I open the door and half a second later my chest cavity is being crushed beneath the weight of my own memories.
My dad’s brother, Callum. My uncle. A man I’ve managed to avoid for almost a decade.
For a moment he looks shocked, like he wasn’t expecting me to be here. Dad will have forgotten to tell him I was coming home, otherwise Callum wouldn’t have shown up. He wouldn’t have dared.
He knows there’s still a chance Dad would believe me over him.
My muscles tense and my skin crawls. The man standing in the doorway is as familiar to me as my nightmares. Seeing him now feels like a whole decade just zipped by in the blink of an eye. The sensations of his hands roaming around my body still burn; his sneered words still echo through my head.
His brow hardens and a dark sneer pulls on his mouth.
“Pfeiffer.”
