20. Lockheart
LOCKHEART
I pace outside of Lucky’s door trying to pluck up the courage to knock.
I should’ve had Nico come up here with me, but after she got sad again about things we can’t change, I didn’t want to admit that I had no clue how to fix things with him.
She’d blame herself, apologise for the choices she made those years ago, and she doesn’t need to put herself through that. Not when it’s not her fault.
I should’ve never blocked her and gotten her removed from the training ground.
I should’ve let her explain before jumping to conclusions.
But what’s done is done. There’s no point in rehashing everything everytime we hit a rough patch.
I just wish his words hadn't left such a painful dent in my heart.
Before I have any more time to dwell on what he said, I hear a little sob from behind the door and my heart breaks a little more. Shit, I made him cry. I should go and get Nico.
I’m contemplating turning on my heel and running down the stairs, but another sob stops my thoughts in their tracks and has my hand lifting and rapping on the door.
I don’t wait for him to answer. I stroll in, ready to apologise and take whatever aggression he wants to deliver to me if it’ll stop his little tears from flowing.
Never did I think I’d be that dad, but hearing him cry makes my heart hurt.
Before I can speak, his little body is flung against my legs, and all that I can make out from the garbled wailing and his face being smushed against my shin is that he’s sorry.
Breathing out a massive sigh of relief, I reach under his arms and bring him up against my chest. I hold him so tightly as I shush him and tell him, ”Everything’s alright.”
We stay like this for a while, my breath stuttering as I suppress my own tears so he doesn’t feel worse.
His tears and snot soak through my shirt, but I couldn’t care less about that.
All that matters is his little body pressed against mine, his heart hearing the constant thud of my own, knowing no matter what, I’ll always be there.
I’ll always forgive him, and nothing he says or does will ever stop me from loving him.
Once the sobs have stopped his body from shaking, I walk over to his bed and sit with him on my lap.
“I-I-I’mma sorry, Daddy. I-I-I didn’t mean it. I l-l-love you.” He manages to get out through his stuttered breathing.
I smile at him gently. “Lucky, it’s okay, son.
I know you didn’t mean it. You were angry, and that’s okay too.
But next time talk to me, buddy. Okay?” I force my voice to remain gentle, and he nods his head at me, his little finger in his mouth for comfort.
“You want to tell me what happened with Caleb?”
His little shoulders rise and drop in a shrug, and I chuckle at him which makes him grin a little. “He said he didn’t wanna be my friend anymore.”
“Okay, did he say why?” I wait for his answer with a smile on my face, trying to reassure him it’s okay to tell me.
“Said I was a liar. Dat you weren’t my dad. Dat it was a publisstaty stunt. I dunno what dat means dough.”
The honesty in his shrug makes me laugh whilst I’m raging on the inside. Caleb is five. He doesn’t know what a publicity stunt is either. Which means he’s probably heard that from his mum or dad. Or worse, someone else’s parents.
But instead of showing him just how mad I am with them talking about grown up things with a small child within hearing distance, I smile.
“Caleb is a poopy head. There I said it. His whole family are poopy heads.” He laughs and shakes his head and I roll my eyes and sigh, “Fine, I’ll be good.
If Caleb doesn’t want to be your friend, that’s his choice.
He’s losing out on an awesome friend though.
“When you get to your new school, you’ll make loads of new friends. Actually, I may have someone for you to hang out with sooner than when you go to school. Are you interested in making a new friend now?”
I silently pray that Antony will be able to wrangle his nephew for the day and this idea of mine doesn’t flop.
“Yeah, I like friends. What’s his name? It is a boy right? I don’t wanna play wiv girls.” He frowns up at me and hits me with a serious look.
I chuckle and think to myself how quickly that statement will change all too soon.
“His name is Benvolio, but everyone calls him Ben. He’s about your age, maybe a little older.
I know he loves superheroes.” I’m wracking my memory trying to remember the things Antony has told me about his sister-in-law's kid, but that’s about all I know.
“I like superheroes too. I could play wiv him. When?”
He smiles up at me and all my concerns melt away. I’d do anything for this kid.
“I’ll text Antony now and see if we can sort something out for tomorrow. Is that okay?”
He nods and wraps his little arms around me and places his head on my chest. “I’m really sorry, Daddy.”
I place a gentle kiss on the top of his head, “It’s fine, my boy. It’s already forgotten.”
And it is. Just like that, the pain and confusion I felt when he shouted those words at me fade into nothingness.
Because his little heart is beating against mine, and I couldn’t be angry or sad if I tried.
Having him lean on me, getting support and advice from me, is all I need.
Just me and my boy… and maybe later me and his mum too.