76. Kai
Kai
Don’t waste your time on me, you’re already the voice inside my head
I miss you, miss you
I pull into my parents’ driveway and barely put the car in park before I’m racing to the door. Kendall remains in the car trying to decide whether she should come in or not. I find my mom at the kitchen table pouring over work documents.
“Kai, what a nice surprise, I didn’t know—"
“Where’s dad?” I demand, cutting her off. I need to do this now, before I talk myself out of it.
“He’s in his office. Kai, what’s wrong?” she asks.
“I just need to talk to him about something,” I respond. But my dad joins us in the kitchen before I can go looking for him. He has his usual, impassive look on his face.
“Kai, I didn’t know you’d be here today,” he comments. At that moment, Kendall walks in the front door. To my father’s credit, his fake smile doesn’t falter, his body language doesn’t change. The only tell is the feathered muscle in his jaw.
“Kendall, hi. It’s so good to see you,” my mom squeals. Kendall bends down to hug my mom as though no time has passed. She makes no move to acknowledge my father and before he can take this charade any further, I interrupt the niceties.
“What did you do?” I bark.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” I snap, taking a few steps closer to him, seething with rage and hurt. I lower my voice to a whisper. “Three years ago, you went to Kendall’s apartment. You knew she was pregnant. What. Did. You. Do?”
I knew he had done this without having to ask, without hearing him acknowledge it.
Backed her into a corner and made her feel smaller and more insecure than she already had been.
I knew because he had done it to me my whole life.
And him coming to her with this offer was what tipped her over the edge.
After all this time, she was the only one brave enough to tell me.
“I did what I thought was best,” he replies coolly.
“You’re a fucking coward,” I say looking him directly in the eyes.
“Kai,” my mom says firmly. “What is going on?”
“Anela, this is our business to deal with,” my dad snaps. He swings his gaze to my mom and back to me quickly.
“Maybe it wasn’t the right way to do things but I was trying to help you. Protect your dream,” he reasons. Protect me? Help me? He is certifiably insane.
“You made a grave error, a catastrophic miscalculation. Hockey was my dream but it was only my dream because it was yours first. If you knew me, and I mean actually knew me, you would know that Kendall was really the only dream that mattered. Because none of this means anything without her, without them. You saw how I was hurting, how much pain I was in and you watched me suffer anyways. You had so many chances to tell me what you did and you chose not to. You did that.”
“You’re right. Maybe I should have told you. And that’s on me. But you can’t honestly tell me that married, pregnant, raising a kid at twenty two, potentially withdrawing from the draft, that that was your dream,” he scoffs.
“That’s not the point. It wasn’t your decision to make.
It wasn’t your life and it wasn’t only my future you almost wrecked; it was both of ours.
I've spent my entire life afraid to mess up, trying to be perfect and live up to your expectations.
The one time that something happened that was beyond our control you didn't even allow me the grace to come to you about it.”
“Wrecked your future?” He laughs in disbelief.
“Are you kidding me? You are where you are because of me. You only have your very lucrative, famous career because of me.” The leash on my restraint has been severed.
I barrel into my father and pin him against the kitchen wall, his gray oxford shirt gripped in my hands.
My breathing is erratic, my chest heaving.
I’m vaguely aware that both my mom and Kendall are yelling, but I can’t seem to process any of it.
“I succeeded, I became everything I am in spite of you, your wrath, your excuse for parenting.” I punctuate every word by digging my index finger deeper into his chest.
“Kai, stop, please. Just back up for a second,” Kendall tugs on my arm, pulling me away from my father.
I retreat two steps, but I remain firmly planted in front of him, trying to decipher the look on his face.
I have never done anything like this. Confronted him, stood up to him, stood up for myself.
I have never accused him of any wrongdoing and he has gotten so many things wrong.
“Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?” my mom demands.
Kendall walks over to the kitchen table and motions for my mom to join her.
I turn back to my father to see him running his hands through his hair nervously.
He obviously doesn’t care about ruining his relationship with me but he’s worried about hurting my mom, that’s one thing he can’t stomach.
I scrape my hand over my jaw, my breathing labored. “You know there were times that it felt like Kendall was the only person that was there for me, supported me. Loved me despite feeling very fucking unlovable by you,” I say quietly.
He’s examining me closely, contemplating his next move.
“That isn’t true,” he replies.
“It doesn’t have to be easy to hear and it doesn’t have to be your reality for it to be true.
But it is. That’s what it was like for me.
” He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t say that he loves me.
He doesn’t apologize and why would he? “You have one son who is afraid to tell you the truth and another that wants nothing to do with you. Nice work, Dad.” I have spent my whole life working and competing for his love.
Trying to earn his attention, time, and affection because it was never handed out freely.
But if this is what it looks like, I don’t want it. I don’t need it.
I am done.
“Kai,” my mother warns from her seat at the table.
And I know she wants to stop me from hurting my father even more but I’m past the point of giving a fuck.
I want to see him in pain, draw blood, and unfortunately, my older brother and his secrets would be collateral damage.
I’m my dad’s golden athlete but Ryo has always been his favored son, the brightest student destined to follow in his footsteps.
“What are you talking about?” he growls.
“Where exactly do you think Ryo is right now?” I press.
He scoffs in irritation, “He’s obviously in California.”
I huff out a dry, mirthless laugh. “He is in Thailand at one of my beach houses and has been for the last three months. He took a leave of absence from med school because he was having panic attacks and couldn’t focus.
And if you think for one second that you didn’t have a hand in making him this way, you’re in fucking denial. ”
My dad’s face immediately crumples into abject horror, drained of its color. “No. No, he would have told me.” He shakes his head in disbelief.
“Would he? Why would he think that talking to you would have solved anything? Anything short of perfection was unacceptable in this house. Jesus, we were terrified of even shitting the wrong way,” I reply.
“That’s enough,” my mom declares firmly and I can hear her plea, You’ve done enough damage, let it be.
“Fine. I’m done anyways,” I relent.
“I was trying to protect you. Everything I have ever done has been out of love,” he reasons quietly and the worst part is, I think he truly believes that. I assume he’s done but then he trudges on mercilessly.
“I wasn’t the warmest dad, so what? I never beat you, neglected you.
Never left you for days on end without food or water wondering when I’d be back.
And I refused to let you grow up with less than you needed to survive.
You three had a roof over your head, food on the table, and endless sports camps, recitals, and competitions.
You lived in a fucking dream.” I think he’s so close to saying my dream, but he doesn’t.
I want him to admit it so badly, his bitter envy of the life he worked so hard to give us.
“So I was a little cold, a little distant. What father isn’t from time to time?
I’ve given you and your brother and sister everything you could possibly need. And this is how you repay me?”
I hear all the things he can’t say. I gave you the life I never had, the one I always wanted.
And my dad had a hard life. I know that even if it was never said out loud.
I picked up pieces and snippets over the years from my mom.
He had to raise his four younger siblings mostly by himself.
They grew up in what would amount now to a shack in relentless poverty.
And it would seem that after his youth was spent nurturing them, caring for them, and protecting them, he didn’t have any of that left over when it came to his own children.
I couldn’t exactly blame him but I couldn’t justify his actions either. Not anymore.
Because what do we owe our parents exactly?
What debt and for how long? For helping us survive and succeed in this fucked up world?
And what do they owe us? Is it our burden to guide their inner child along a gentler path?
Do we bear any responsibility for helping them heal the wounds and horrors they endured throughout their life?
I don’t have those answers. I probably never will.
I can make peace with my dad showing his love the only way he knows how.
Eventually. But his blatant disgust and attack of my relationship with Kendall?
Stabbing me in the back all while smiling in my face for years?
The selfish cruel decision that could have resulted in me not having a son? I don’t think I can forgive that.
“This might be the last time I ever speak to you. So, I’m going to ask you one more time and I hope you tell me the truth. Why did you do this?”
There’s a panicked look in his eyes as they dart between me and my mom.
“You have your own son now. Wouldn’t you do anything to protect him to make sure his future was secure?
I never wanted you to struggle the way I did.
” He almost sounds remorseful. I realize this conversation is about as close as I’m going to get to an apology because my dad doesn’t have one empathetic bone in his body.
“I would never do something like this to Akio,” I reply calmly.
“I would never intentionally harm him or cause him pain. You don’t do that to people you love, Dad.
” He stares at me wide eyed in horror, while the full impact of his choices catches up to him.
What’s that saying—heal so your children don’t have to?
My father didn’t but I will. I will make sure Akio never feels the pain my father was quick to inflict on me and my siblings.
That he never has to question whether he is loved or worthy or enough.
“This conversation is over. Come on, Ken, we’re leaving,” I tell them, striding towards the front door.
Once Kendall’s hand is in mine, I turn back around to address my father. “I don’t want you anywhere near me, Kendall, or our son. I don’t want a single fucking thing from you anymore or ever again,” I say, letting the door slam on our way out.
He probably didn’t think he would lose me over this, that I would wage a war over Kendall. But he should have known I would burn down the whole fucking world for her, for them.