Chapter 36
Eric
I t was dark by the time my father's nurse pulled him inside for his dose of medication. My eyes were heavy as fuck, and my feet dragged on the way back inside the house.
I couldn't tell him.
The moment I came downstairs and looked into my father's beaming face, I knew I couldn't ruin it. The last time I was here, his face was dragging more than my feet. Both he and mom were shells of the people they used to be. It was almost as if they were different people now. Sitting with him today, out back on the beach, took me back to the few memories I had as a child, hanging with my father and the other soldiers whenever he wasn't deployed. Until now, I'd forgotten about those memories of us gathered, talking about the war, other kids hanging with their fathers, seated in a circle, gazing up in wonder as our parents recounted stories.
It made me more sure that coming here was a fucked up idea. I was so set on the idea from the get-go, even before this new scare, that I ran with it, for better or for worse.
So many scares lately. I hadn't had a moment to breathe in what felt like forever.
After staying with them for a couple of weeks and seeing how fucked a state they were in, almost losing them, almost losing Lily, having them risk everything to save Lily and seeing how much better they were doing since then, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I took that happiness he'd found away from him.
I wouldn't want to.
My mind was made up. I didn't know how we were going to protect ourselves and Lily, but we were going to have to find another way.
Tomorrow.
Right now, I needed rest. And Lily.
I'd neglected her all day, and there was this weight on my shoulders, even as I entered the living room and thought about putting on a persona for her again. The weight was lifted, however, when I heard my mother's laugh and saw Lily speaking to her animatedly about something over apple pie and tea. For a second, it was like a breath of fresh air as I allowed myself to hone in on a moment, rather than the whirlwind of thoughts that had been working together to throttle me as punishment for my crimes. Soon, I was slammed again with a taste of the guilt I'd feel if my mother was robbed of her laugh once more. I was an awful son. An awful boyfriend.