Chapter 37 Genevieve
Genevieve
This wasn’t the ending I imagined.
I thought I’d leave Colorado with a boyfriend; maybe try long-distance, and maybe fall harder than I already had. Instead, I left with silence. With questions. With a version of Aspen I didn’t recognize.
He said he loved me.
And I believed him. God, I believed him.
But now, all I feel is stupid.
Never did I expect us to end like this. With him lying to my face, but I should have assumed. He’s just like all the other guys out there. Just like my dad and just like any guy I’ve ever slept with. It’s embarrassing to think I told him I love him.
Did he really mean it when he told me he loved me?
Probably not.
It was probably yet again, another lie. He sure fooled me. I feel like a joke.
Maybe men don’t lie to me because I look like a dumb blond.
Maybe they lie to me because they know I’ll fall for it.
I’ve got my mom’s eyes and apparently her blindness too.
Falling for him was like wearing white in the rain, beautiful but bound to get ruined.
It’s the middle of the day when Lana comes through our dorm room door, while I’m in the same spot she left me this morning, in my bed. What’s she doing back? She’s normally at school all day long and when she’s not, that girl lives at the library.
She throws a Steak and Shake bag at me. The paper bag is leaking grease from the bottom, but it smells too good to pass up. I stay laying down.
“Here. You need to eat. You can’t just mope around all day because you got your heart broken,” she says.
I filled her in last night with all the details.
She said she was sad for me, but was happy I wasn’t dead.
I could tell she felt bad for me though.
Which kills me, I don’t want to be anyone’s charity case.
“I didn’t get my heart broken,” I tell her lying.
“Yes, yes you did. And that’s okay. But I won’t let you lose yourself and mope around for weeks and weeks.
So you have today to mope, eat junk and watch sappy movies.
But tomorrow is a new day and you are going to start trying in school and showing up for class.
I won’t let you fail,” She says matter of factly.
This gets me to sit up into a sitting position. I don’t even want to know what my hair looks like right now. Probably a bird’s nest. But wait, when did Lana grow a pair?
“Thanks, babe. I love you,” I tell her. I don’t even argue about the school part. I know she’s just looking out for me. She’s the first person to show she truly cares about what goes on in my life.
She doesn’t know it, but her voice is the first thing that’s made sense all day.
Maybe longer.
It scares me how much I needed someone to care.
“I love you too, now I gotta get to class,” she says, walking back out the door, into the frightening world that I am in here hiding from.
I toss myself back down onto the bed and groan to nobody.
I don’t even want this burger, it reminds me too much of Aspen and Colorado and everything I left behind.
But I’m hungry, so I take the burger out of the bag, unwrap it’s greasy goodness and stuff my face.
I try not to think of Aspen or the weight I may gain while I do this.
Moments later my burger is gone, but my sorrows still remain and I’m drowning in them. Nothing can fix this pain, but I will treat myself to a Ben and Jerry's ice cream if nothing else.
Before I can get myself up, my phone rings with a call from Cole. I pick up immediately.
“Nice of you to call! I haven’t heard from you in ages!” I tell Cole.
“Sorry little sis, I’ve been busy,” Cole says.
“Yeah, me too,” Adam says chiming in.
“Adam? You’re on the call too?” I ask.
“Yeah you’re on speaker phone,” Adam says.
“Am I in trouble?” I ask teasing.
“No, but we’ve got some news,” Cole says.
My stomach drops. What could it possibly be?
“Dad’s been in a motorcycle accident. He’s in critical condition and we think you should come down here to see him,” Adam says quickly.
No. No. No.
Not him. Not now.
I already buried him in my head. I don’t know if I have the strength to resurrect him. Especially after what just happened with Aspen.
My mind is racing a million miles a minute. Dad. Cocaine. Motorcycle. Cheater. Cocaine. Liar. Cocaine. Cocaine. Cocaine!
“He doesn’t need me there. I’m sure he will be fine all on his own. The accident was probably his fault anyway. He was most likely drugged up,” I say.
“Evie,” Cole starts. “Dad’s been sober for nearly two years now.”
I’m not sure I heard him correctly.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Dad’s sober,” is all Cole says.
“How? When? Why?”
When you caught him that night, he was in a bad place. He’s gotten better since then. When he moved out, he went to rehab and got better. Now he’s been sober ever since,” Adam says.
“And you guys never told me?” I ask.
“You never asked. Plus, you were very clear about never wanting to speak to him again. But this may be your last chance,” Cole says. “I think you should come.”
One thing about me, is when my brother’s tell me to do something, I do it.
I open up my laptop and book myself the next flight to Los Angeles. I send my flight info to Cole and Adam in our sibling group chat and begin to pack my bag. I don’t need much. I plan on just going there tonight and coming back tomorrow.
Once my bag is packed, I do a double take of my room to make sure I’ve got everything I need and head out the door.
I hit the elevator button and when the doors open, I get inside and press G.
I begin to check in for my flight on my phone when the doors to the elevator open again.
“Genevieve, isn’t this a nice surprise?” Bryce Munson says in a teasing way that just comes off dickish. This is actually the opposite of a nice surprise.
“Do you ever stop talking?” I say to him, he smiles. He acts like he’s not fazed by my words at all. How did I ever let myself sleep with him? It was probably just because I was drunk, and he was cute in a ‘discount rack’ kind of way.
“I actually wanted to tell you I’ve been working on my head game. So, if you ever want to let me practice some more on you or show you what I’ve got, you know where to find me,” he says just as the elevator doors open on the ground floor.
I don’t even answer him, I just let him get out of the elevator without another word. I can’t even imagine how many women he’s practiced on. No thanks. That tongue probably has some sort of STD lingering on it just waiting to pass it over to me.
I’m swearing off men for a while. I want nothing to do with them. They’re all the same: dirty, lying jerks. Just like my dad, just like every other guy. Why did I think I’d find someone different?
The only thing on my mind is, I didn’t really let Aspen explain himself.
I actually don’t know that vile was his.
What if it wasn’t? What if I just made the biggest mistake of my life and walked away from the only good thing that has ever happened to me.
What if Aspen is the one and I didn’t even give him a chance to explain what that vile was doing in his coat pocket.
I shake that thought from my mind.
There are so many what if’s. I just don’t know what to think anymore.
If Aspen were to ask me to give him another shot I would definitely hear him out.
I just don’t want to be like my mom who turned a blind eye and acted like my dad’s drug abuse didn’t affect her.
She didn’t even leave my dad because of it, she left him when she found out he was cheating.
I want to let Aspen know that if he has an issue, I will only be with him if he never uses again and he needs to prove it to me somehow, that I’m certain about.
***
The plane touches down in Los Angeles around 6:00 p.m. The sun is low in the sky, casting everything in that golden-orange haze that makes even the unfamiliar feel like a memory. I gained about two hours on the flight, which buys me a little more time to prepare myself.
Though I don’t think any amount of time will ever feel like enough.
I skip baggage claim, no checked luggage, just a small carry-on and the weight of everything I’ve been avoiding. My feet move faster than I expect, like my body wants to outrun my mind.
Outside, I spot them almost instantly. LAX smells like jet fuel and misplaced dreams.
I don’t feel ready, but my legs are already moving.
Maybe that’s the thing about family, no matter how broken it is, you still run toward it when it’s falling apart.
“Little sis!” Cole calls out, already on his way toward me with that same wide, goofy grin he’s had since we were kids.
He pulls me into a tight bear hug, one that lifts me a little off the ground like I’m still fifteen and he’s trying to embarrass me at school pickup.
It’s grounding, and for a second, I remember what it feels like to be safe.
“Hii,” I breathe, hugging him back with all the strength I’ve got.
Adam steps forward next and his arms wrap around me just as tightly. He presses a kiss to my cheek, and I close my eyes soaking it all in. I didn’t realize how much I missed this—them.
Oh, how I missed them both.
“Let’s go see Dad,” Adam says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nod. “Yeah.” My voice is small, “Let’s go see him.”
The thirty-minute drive to the hospital is quiet, tense in a way that hums beneath the music playing low on the radio. Every street we turn down feels like it’s taking me closer to something I’ve been running from.
I haven’t seen my father in over two years.
As awful as it sounds, there were moments, days, weeks, when I was sure I’d never see him again; not after what happened, not after what he did to my mom, to us, to me.
The man in that hospital bed isn’t the dad I once clung to when I was little. He became a stranger, one I had to mourn even though he was still breathing somewhere. For a long time, I believed he’d already left us in every way that mattered.
But then Cole and Adam called me, told me he was clean, that he’d stayed clean.
And suddenly, I felt something I didn’t expect: hope.
It was fragile and painful and confusing, but it was there. Hope… and maybe a sliver of forgiveness. Because no matter what he did, if he died without me seeing him again, that would haunt me forever.
I thought about the entire plane ride.
He gave me life. I couldn’t ignore that.
The nurse leads us down a quiet hallway and stops in front of the door. I can see the soft pulse of monitors glowing through the crack. My feet stop moving.
I can’t do it. Not yet.
My legs stop moving, but my past keeps walking toward that door.
Every step forward feels like peeling off a scab.
Cole slips inside without a word, already settling into the chair beside the bed. But Adam stays back with me, his hand grazing my shoulder in silent support.
He knows.
He knows what this means to me. I was the one who caught Dad that night. The one who saw everything. And there are images in my head I will never unsee, no matter how many years pass. Scars that no one else can understand but Adam… he gets it. He always has.
“You got this, sis,” he whispers. “I’m right here with you. Every step.”
I turn to look at him, and for a moment, I’m twelve again. Nervous before my first volleyball game, clutching the sleeves of my jersey while Adam ties my shoes for me, telling me I was going to kill it out there.
He’s always been the emotional one, the soft one, the one who made me feel understood without needing me to say much.
I squeeze his hand, and we walk in together.
The room smells like antiseptic. My eyes are drawn instantly to the bed.
There he is.
My father.
He’s thinner than I remember. Pale, still, buried in a tangle of wires and machines that beep steadily like a fragile promise. He looks like he’s been emptied out, hollowed by whatever it took for him to hit rock bottom. His chest rises and falls, but otherwise, he’s motionless.
He looks... broken.
I inch closer, legs trembling as I lower myself into the chair beside him. I scan his face, searching for pieces of the man I used to know. There are a few new wrinkles around his mouth. Some gray in the stubble on his chin. But mostly, he looks the same. And that hurts more than I expected.
“He hasn’t regained consciousness since the accident,” Cole says from behind me.
“It’s a non-medically induced coma. Neurological signs are good so far, the team’s optimistic.
His femur is fractured, but that’s the worst of it.
If he wakes up soon and stays stable, he’s got a shot at a full recovery. ”
I nod, barely hearing him. His words feel far away.
Because I’m staring at my dad.
So quiet. So still. So... there.
I reach out, almost in slow motion, and wrap my fingers around his. His hand is warm, and rough with old calluses, but limp. No squeeze in return.
Still, I hold on.
“I’m here, Dad,” I whisper, my voice cracking on the words. “I’m right here.”
I don’t even realize I’m crying until a tear lands on his blanket.
And then—it happens.
The faintest twitch.
I freeze. My breath catches in my throat.
His fingers.
They moved.
His eyelids flutter, slow and uneven, like he's pushing through the weight of sleep, or maybe the weight of everything he’s done.
“Dad?” I gasped.
His eyes opened, unfocused at first… but then they found mine, and I knew.
He’d been waiting for me.
Maybe people do change.
Maybe the men in my life don’t all end in ash.
Maybe… this doesn’t have to be the end of something.
Maybe it’s the start.