Chapter 45 Travis
Travis
“Dad.”
My tongue feels weird in my mouth just saying that. It feels wrong to call him that.
I haven’t spoken to him in years. Not since I was seventeen.
Not since the day he left my mom.
The muscles in my shoulders and neck tense as he walks toward me. He’s smiling.
He looks…happy to see me.
Anger bubbles up inside of me, and I ball my fists at my sides.
“Oh, son. It’s so good to see you.”
When he wraps his arms around me and hugs me, I freeze. My arms are glued to my sides, and it feels like I can’t breathe.
He doesn’t seem to notice though. He doesn’t notice when I take a step back from him either. He just stands there, grinning at me, shaking his head.
“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” He laughs. His brown hair is shorter now, with more gray hair lining his temples. The crow’s feet flanking his eyes are deeper now. When he smiles, he has laugh lines. He has a beard now too. It’s trimmed short and more gray than brown.
He looks like a stranger who kind of looks like someone I used to know.
“What are you doing here?” My tone is hard, on the edge of pissed.
His smile falters. He clears his throat. “I wanted to see my son. It’s been a while.”
“I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to talk to you. I thought I made that clear when I blocked your number and refused to have contact with you for the last four years.”
His smile disappears completely. He blinks, and his brow furrows. I tense even more. That’s the face he made when he’d get angry with my mom or me. When he’d lose his patience. When he was about to argue with her.
“Don’t take that tone with me, Travis. I’m your father. I just wanted to see you.”
A bitter laugh falls from my lips.
“Really? You came all the way to San Francisco from wherever the hell you’re living now, just to say hi? You expect me to believe that?”
Embarrassment flashes in his eyes for a split second, but he blinks it away. He’s back to looking angry again.
“Yes. Because that’s the truth.”
Another bitter laugh falls from my mouth.
He stares at me. “I don’t think the way you’re treating me right now is very funny, Travis. I came here because I saw that you’re going to play pro hockey now. I’m proud of you. And I want to reconnect with you.”
I glower at him. “I don’t give a shit what you think or what you want.”
He stares at me like he’s trying to figure me out. “Don’t tell me you’re still mad about that whole thing with your mom.”
The anger inside of me morphs into rage. I can feel the exact moment my heart rate kicks up, threatening to rip out of my chest.
“Yeah. I’m still mad. I’m really fucking pissed,” I say through gritted teeth.
My dad rolls his eyes. “Jesus, Travis. Look, I know you care about your mom. I know it must have been hard for you to see us split up. But it’s been years. Can’t you just be happy to see me?”
Rage tenses every muscle in my body. I’m biting down so hard, it feels like my jaw is about to break.
I want to punch him for hurting my mom, for abandoning her when she needed him most. I want to run away from him and never, ever speak to him again.
I step forward so we’re almost chest to chest. His eyes widen in shock. His eyes that are blue, but not blue like mine. Eyes that I don’t even recognize anymore.
“You don’t know shit. You know why? Because you left her. She was sick, and you fucking left her.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“You think seeing you two split up was hard? It wasn’t. It wasn’t even that hard when you didn’t call or check up on me or try to see me,” I say. “Because I didn’t want to see you after what you did to her.”
My heart is racing, powered by pure rage. And adrenaline.
“You know what was hard? Seeing her suffer every single day. Watching her get weaker and weaker while she fought cancer. Carrying her to bed when she was too weak to walk. Helping her to the toilet so she could vomit.”
My throat aches with the urge to scream and cry all at once.
“You don’t know how hard it was for me to take care of her on my own as a teenager. You don’t know how helpless I felt, watching her suffer, thinking she was going to die.”
My voice breaks. Tears burn in my eyes.
“You were supposed to take care of her,” I say, my voice strained. “You were supposed to take care of me too.”
His eyes widen at the shock of hearing me say all this. He blinks, and I finally see it: Pain. Guilt. Regret.
“Travis, I’m sorry. You have no idea how much I regret what I did. Will you give me a chance to make it right?”
I huff out a breath and wipe my nose. I’m just now realizing that my cheeks are wet. I’m crying.
I wipe my face on my sleeves. “No,” I grit out. “There’s nothing you can do to make it right. What you did was unforgivable. I never want to see you again.”
When I turn to walk off, that’s when I see the dozen or so people standing around us. My skin pricks. It feels like a million invisible needles stabbing into my skin. I hate that people are seeing this horrible reunion play out between my dad and me. I want to crawl out of my skin and disappear.
“Travis, wait.”
I ignore my dad as I walk to my car.
“Travis, will you stop? Wait one second, will you?”
He grabs my shoulder, yanking me back. My reaction is a reflex. I spin around and shove him.
I don’t want him touching me. I don’t want him near me.
He falls to the ground, his face twisting in pain. His hand goes to his hip, and he groans.
Guilt throttles me as I stare down at him. I don’t want to hurt him. I just want him to leave me alone.
That needle-stabbing feeling intensifies. People are walking over to us. Some of them are holding their phones up, recording this.
Fuck.
My stomach churns. I’m gonna be sick. I need to get out of here.
I reach down and help him up.
Once he’s on his feet, I look him in the eye. “Stay away from my mom and me.”
I run to my car, throw my bag inside, and then speed off.
I don’t know how long I drive. I don’t know where I am. All I see are skyscrapers and a triangular building in the distance. The ocean. The Golden Gate Bridge. A million slanted houses painted in every color.
I pull into a random open parking space, and then I grab my phone. My heart races as I call the one person—the only person—I want to talk to.
Anna picks up right away.
“I need you.”