Chapter Twenty-Two West #3
“West,” he says softly. “If I can take away anything from last night, aside from ‘don’t trust a Russo as far as you can throw him, and maybe not even that much’ ”—a hint of teasing colors his voice before he turns serious again—“it’s that I don’t want to waste any more time missing out on my son’s life.
Not getting to know what he cares about, what makes him tick and gets him excited to get out of bed in the morning.
Not being the first person he comes to—or hell, even on the list of contacts—when he needs help.
Believe it or not, I’m not completely obtuse.
I know I haven’t made myself available to be that person the past few years.
But I want to do better, I…I do, more than I can tell you. ”
Emotion thickens the words, and it’s the first time all day I feel tears sting behind my own eyes.
In the silence that follows, while I hear my father sniff and clear his throat, I’m grateful my parents have never hidden their vulnerability, that I grew up with two examples of strong, capable men who also feel things deeply.
Who’ve always let me fall apart in front of them without shame and been there to pick me up when I’ve needed it.
It’s that thought that finally makes me start talking.
Dad listens patiently as I spill out the story of my last few weeks, all that’s happened with Cammie, and looking for her dad, and falling for her again for what felt like the first time. I tell him about Germany, and how long I put off the choice to go, and what made me finally say yes.
Then I get to today, and the future—how I’ve started to convince myself that I should give Cammie space and time while she processes everything and decides what she needs.
How I and my needs don’t have to get in her way, or loom on the other side of her bedroom wall, in the midst of all the other chaos she’s facing.
How I’m not sure if she broke up with me this morning or if we were even officially together or if she was just saying stuff she didn’t mean again, but she said she would stick with me when things got tough, so I should probably believe her, right?
And maybe sticking with her, for now, means taking away the pressure of my presence—supporting her, while giving her room to breathe.
I don’t know how long it takes, how long we lie there on the bizarrely comfortable carpet for a room that seems so underused. But Dad doesn’t rush me or admit how exhausted he must be. He just listens, like there’s nowhere he’d rather be.
Finally, I let out a puff of air and conclude, “I think that’s everything.”
In the ensuing silence, I hear Dad rub a hand over his jaw, a gesture I picked up from him, however unwittingly. The realization would make me smile if I didn’t feel so miserable right now.
“I’ll be honest with you,” he finally says.
“I think this flight instinct—no pun intended—is not the kind of…reprieve, or whatever, that you think you’re giving to Cammie.
Or to me or anyone else around you. You’re not a burden, no matter what your brain might want to tell you.
And acting on the belief that you are might just hurt you and Cammie both, not help anyone. Does that make sense?”
My brows pull together as I consider his words. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
Dad lets out a soft chuckle. “Well, I am very obviously not the expert on relationships and being a good partner. But especially with where you and Cammie are in your lives—don’t put it on pause right when things are getting good!
The best is yet to come, buddy. I feel fairly certain of that.
If she wants to be with you, no matter that you’re in Germany, or that your brain tries to screw things up for you sometimes, or that you’re a big ol’ nerd”—he bumps his elbow against mine—“then I think you should trust her. Trust that you have so much going for you, it’s no wonder this girl who you find to be so amazing thinks the same of you.
I know I come with some bias, being the parent of the best guy in the world.
But Cammie is a smart girl, too—she wouldn’t fall for a dud, you know? ”
“That should not be as comforting as it is,” I admit a little grudgingly.
“It’s a gift.” Dad laughs again, clearly pleased with himself. Sincerity returning, he asks, “Can you promise me that if there ever comes another time when you’re going through something and need advice, and I’m in the same ten-mile radius…you’ll consider giving me a shout?”
Emotion clogging my throat again, I nod.
Probably sensing I need the company and the comedic relief, Dad sticks around the library for a while, telling me about some embarrassing but hilarious experience he had trying to order in Italian at a bakery the other day.
He asks more about my life, even has me show him Project Euclid.
I try to talk him through the current problem I’m working, but don’t get very far before there’s a glazed look in his eyes.
“The last math class I took was first semester of undergrad, and for good reason,” he says.
Even as it does my heart and mind good to have the time together, both parts of me are only half present. The other halves are with Cammie, wondering how she’s feeling now. Concerned how things are going with Luca and Dr. Alex. Considering how I fit into the transforming picture of her life.
When Dad decides to turn in, he gives me a long, tight hug, and tells me everything will look brighter after a good night’s rest. I go to sleep hoping more than anything that he’s right.
I wake up to find he’s not.