Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
V oices rise downstairs.
Mum and Dad are arguing again. They’re always fighting these days.
I place the pillow over my head to block them out. Days have passed since I left my room. After my father personally saw to it that Arkin was shipped far away, he tried to move on as if nothing had happened. I haven’t spoken a word to him and won’t open the door either when he knocks. As far as I’m concerned, we’re done. Nigel Beckett stopped being my father when he ordered Arkin from my life.
Footsteps stomp on the stairs. Angry footsteps. The frustration in Mum’s voice when she shouts at Dad is unmistakable. Three soft raps follow. “Zachary, please open the door.”
I stay right where I am but shift the pillow out of the way so that I can see the handle rattle.
“Please talk to me.” Her voice is soft. Regretful. “Please, Zach.”
Reaching for the phone on my nightstand, I check to see if Arkin has messaged me back. But my last string of messages from last night remains unread, so I toss the phone back down, and it bounces off the side, landing on my dirty socks with a thud.
“Zach…”
She won’t give up. My mum is nothing but tenacious when she sets her mind to something. She won’t let me stew in my own unwashed underwear and misery forever.
With that in mind, I roll out of bed to let her in. When the lock clicks, Mum enters my space, her nose wrinkling at the reek. “When was the last time you showered?”
“Do you care?” I collapse back onto the mattress and sniff my armpits. She’s right; I’m ripe.
Mum scans the mess on the floor and the bed and then opens the blinds. The morning sun streams into my room, making me groan like a dying animal.
For the next few minutes, she tidies up and opens the window to air out my room.
The mild breeze would feel nice if I didn’t exist in a tailormade hell. But as it is, I don’t have it in me to notice nice things because I’m wallowing in self-pity.
“When was the last time you ate?”
When I remain silent, she sighs, hand on her hip, and rubs the space between her brows. “Zachary. This can’t go on.”
“Just leave.”
“You have football practice tonight.”
“I don’t care.”
I feel her eyes on me for a few moments longer before she exits my room. Then she’s back minutes later with a plated sandwich and a glass of orange juice, which she sets down on my nightstand.
She sits down beside me and shifts my greasy hair away from my brow. “Why don’t you tell me about him.”
My body stills and then I push onto my elbow to look at her. She sees my skeptical expression and smiles weakly. “Tell me about Arkin,” she says.
“What do you want to know?”
Mum chews on the inside of her cheek. “You and Amy broke up countless times, yet you were never this upset. You haven’t left your bed for days, and you haven’t touched your food.” She puts her hand on my arm, her touch gentle. “I want to know about this boy that has you so tied up in knots.”
I glance at the door, but Mum shakes her head. “Don’t worry about your father.”
“What about your faith? Your God?”
“Right now, I want to know about you.” She cups my cheek with a soft smile. “About my beautiful son. Talk to me, please.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Whatever you feel ready to tell me. How did it all start?”
It should feel strange to talk to my mum of all people, but as she cups my chin, I realize how much I’ve craved this conversation. Arkin deserves to be talked about. Deserves someone who won’t keep him hidden in the closet out of fear.
Mum listens while I explain how I fell for the intense boy who moved into our home—minus the sordid details, of course.
“I feel bad because I hated him at first, but then… I couldn’t deny how he made me feel.”
“It must have been lonely, feeling like you had no one to talk to.”
“It was,” I agree. “But I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. It took me a long time to accept this side of myself. I didn’t want to admit it at first.”
“Your father and I play a part in that,” Mum says regretfully.
“No, Mum,” I start, but she shakes her head and takes my hand.
“Zachary… You should have never felt embarrassed of who you are. It pains me to think you felt like you had to hide this side of yourself. You should know that as your parents, we’d never disown you.”
“But Dad, he?—”
“Your dad will come around. I promise.” She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s not as easy for your father. I grew up in a non-religious home and found my faith in my early adulthood, but your father was born into the faith. He’s not a bad man, Zachary. He just needs a little longer to work through his emotions and reconcile his faith. Trust me, he wants you to be happy and will realize one day soon what a mistake he made by sending Arkin away when he did.”
I’m speechless, to be honest. Never expected Mum to be this understanding. Dad’s anger was no surprise. Deep down, I always knew he’d react badly to my sexuality but had no idea my mum would be the one to extend an olive branch. Now that we’re here, smiling tentatively at each other, I wish I had opened up to her sooner.
“Zachary, sweetheart. I need to say something, and you won’t like it.”
Oh, here we go. Of course there’s a but with parents.
“Your father wasn’t completely in the wrong.”
How can she say that? Arkin is gone because of my father, and I don’t know when or if I’ll see him again.
I try to pull my hand away, but Mum holds on tight. “What happened between you both wasn’t wrong. No one here is judging you for falling in love with such a sweet young man.”
I roll my eyes. “Just say what you want to say.”
“Arkin was entrusted into our care on a temporary basis because he’s a vulnerable member of society. Our home was supposed to be a safe space for him.”
“I didn’t?—”
“I know,” Mum says. “I know you didn’t make our home unsafe. That’s not what I’m trying to say. But uhm…” Her shoulders rise and fall on a tired sigh. “It wasn’t the right time, son. Arkin has a lot of trauma in his past that he needs to work through before he’s ready for the world. He lost his parents and suffered severe abuse under his uncle’s care. Then he lost his siblings, the only family he had remaining, and was left in a group home. He deserved more than that. So much more.”
I don’t want to hear this because it hurts. Each sentence, each word, jabs like a dull knife.
“He has a chance now at getting to know this extended family. And by all accounts, they’re good people.”
“What about me?”
I know it sounds selfish and immature or whatever. But it’s not fair that he was taken from me.
Mum’s eyes glisten with tears. “I’m sorry.”
“He spoke to me, Mum.”
Her tears spill over. “He spoke?”
I nod, flexing my jaw. “It took him a long time, but he eventually dared to speak again.”
Mum’s smile is wobbly. “Well, hopefully now, his family will get him plenty of support and care?—”
“You don’t get it.” My voice is forceful. “He trusted me. He doesn’t trust them.”
“Zach…” She tries to reach for my hand again, but I pull away.
“If he can’t come back here, I’ll go to him.”
“I think you need to give him time. Give love a little trust.”
“You think I should do nothing?”
“No, I think you should trust in Arkin and the love that you shared.” She captures my gaze. “He will come back to you. When the time is right.”
“God’s perfect timing and all that,” I spit.
Mum laughs lightly. “Something like that.” She pats my knee. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it will get easier. I promise you.”
I almost scoff, but even that takes effort I don’t have.
“Your sister is worried about you,” she tells me softly. “Can I tell her it’s safe to come in here? That you won’t bite her head off?”
I give a barely there nod. “Yeah, sure.”
Somewhere deep down, guilt gnaws at me for shutting my sister out. I never meant for her to get caught in the crosshairs.
“Take a shower,” Mum says, looking at me in a way I know she means business. “You’re stinking up my house.”
As she leaves my room, a small smile tries to peek out like a ray of sunshine from behind the thick storm clouds.
Even though my heart feels as if it’s been ripped clean from my chest, I know I can’t rot away in my room forever. The horrifying thought of facing the outside world makes me flop back onto the bed with a pitiful groan.
How do I move on from the persistent ache in my somehow hollow chest? Who knew it was possible to feel nothing yet everything all at once? I had no idea until Arkin walked out of my life.