Chapter 7
WILLIAM
It was Friday evening, the college town buzzing with drunk students and loud music.
I asked around and finally found the popular bar that everyone who was anyone attended. For some reason, I was reluctant to enter, standing outside like a weirdo, pulling on my sleeves in nervousness.
What if he’s in there? What do I say? How do I approach him?
I’d have done anything to crush Colton in a tight hug, to feel that he was healthy and well. Hell, I’d even settle for a quick glimpse. Although it had been just over a month, it felt like a lifetime since I had seen my boy.
I had never gone that long without him. Ever.
Suddenly, I was knocked off balance by a young man rushing past.
“Shit. Sorry, man,” he blurted, offering a hand to help me straighten up.
I shook my head and decided to latch on to the opportunity. “I’m alright. Although there might be something else you can help me with…”
His sandy blonde brow perked upwards. “What?”
“Do you know someone named Colton? He goes to college here.”
Recognition flashed in light brown eyes that promptly narrowed on me. “Who’s asking?”
“His father.”
Seconds ticked by as hostility ran off him in waves. He definitely knew my boy.
“What do you want with Colt?”
“Please, I have something urgent to discuss with him. Of the utmost importance.”
“And this couldn’t wait until another time? You know, when the whole student body wasn’t blackout drunk?”
“No. Colton doesn’t drink, so—”
The stranger sniggered. “Come back another time, old man.”
“No.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. But you don’t fucking approach him unless I say so. You’ve already done enough damage. Understood?”
I nodded, absolutely hollow inside. Although this boy near half my age had put me in my place, I was reluctantly happy to know Colton had someone in his corner willing to protect him.
Slipping into a shadowed alcove of the storefront next door, I bided my time.
I was unsure on how long I’d waited, but when I finally clocked him leaving the bar, my gut completely bottomed out. Colton was paralytic drunk, being held up by the stranger I’d met earlier.
My son looked exactly how I felt—a complete and downright mess. He couldn’t stand on his own. Fresh vomit ran down his chin, and he’d obviously lost weight.
Utter sadness consumed me as he was practically dragged along the pavement. “I want to go back, Avery. Take me back,” he slurred, his words barely coherent.
“You’ve been kicked out, moron,” he snapped, continuing to hold up his friend.
As they staggered by, I went to step into the light, to help in any way I could. But I was cut off midway by Avery’s severe glare. And when his eyes met mine, he gave a distinct shake of his head, nonverbally letting me know to stay the fuck away.
I was conflicted. On one hand, I wanted to help Colton, to support him. But based on his erratic state, I knew my presence would only bring him more pain, more turmoil. And with alcohol in the mix, my approaching him would definitely not be a good idea.
So, going against every fucking instinct warring within me, I decided to hover behind, just out of reach, where he wouldn’t know I was there.
Avery did a good job guiding him back—until they reached a local park, and Colton proceeded to projectile vomit over the grass.
It was akin to torture, watching on and not being able to do anything. I was so close to bulldozing in there so many times, but Avery always held me back with a vicious glower or raised palm.
And so, I remained hidden, watching my son fall apart as my heart bled out on the pavement between us.
Once Colton was finished, Avery settled him on a park bench, dropping down beside him. They didn’t seem awkward; if anything, the duo sat in silent companionship.
Avery eventually sighed. “Fuck, Colt. You need help.”
“Fuck you. There’s no one I trust.”
“What about your dad? He’s been trying, bro. I saw all those voicemails he left. Your phone doesn’t ever stop blowing up.”
Damn. Avery was willing to bat for me. A tendril of hope flourished in my chest, which was completely smothered when Colton laughed—legitimately cackled.
“Yeah, and did you listen to any of them? Did you listen to a single one?”
“Course not.”
“Exactly. Then you don’t know shit, Avery. If you heard what I did, you wouldn’t mention that fucking asshole to me ever again.”
My breath caught, honestly uncertain of what he was referring to. I’d poured my everything out in those messages. Vulnerable and real.
“Tell me, then,” Avery said. “Help me understand.”
Colton groaned, as if impatient. “He chose her over me, over his wife. And after all of that, he never left her.”
“Nikita? How do you know?”
I was lost. Nikita and I weren’t together. Yeah, she had forced herself into my orbit, but that didn’t mean I wanted her there.
Colton spat on the ground. “It wasn’t hard to miss. With all his bullshit crying voice messages he sent, you’d think he’d notice what was playing in the background.”
“Geez, Colt.” Avery breathed.
“No matter how much he begged or pleaded over the phone, his voice was always drowned out by her. Whether it be her soft requests, asking him to eat, her off-tune humming or that god-awful singing. Nikita was always there. So, you know what that means right, Avery?”
“What?”
“That William Richards is full of absolute shit.” Boom—and there goes my heart. How can one man be so fucking stupid? All those calls, all those cries for help were for nothing, tarnished and ruined by her presence... that I allowed.
Colton sniffled, continuing on his rant, and I deserved to hear it.
“My mum’s been in the ground barely five fucking minutes, and that bitch has already replaced her.
She’s stolen the dream, hasn’t she? Living in our home, sleeping in her bed, playing house with my dad.
Like, who the fuck does that, Ave? Who the fuck are these people? ”
No, son. It’s not like that. Was never like that. Yet, before I could even contemplate defending myself, that’s when I heard it. The crack in his voice, an echo of splinters carving right down to his young soul.
And there, right in front of me, I watched my son break down. My chest split open as his noiseless sobs reached me in the shadows, knowing I couldn’t do anything to soothe or comfort him. I had forfeited that role.
Avery placed a heavy arm over Colton’s shoulder. “I’m here, bro.”
“Are you?”
“Look where the fuck I am. I’ve held you up despite getting your vomit all over me,” he said, gesturing to his ruined front.
Colton sniggered before rubbing at his soiled face. “Yeah, I guess that does constitute ‘friendship’.”
“Fucker. You owe me a new shirt.”
“I owe you more than that… Thanks for looking out, Ave. I-I’m gonna focus on getting better.”
“Yeah, you are. I’m not watching you spiral anymore.”
Colton nodded and even managed a minute smile at his friend.
And with that final message, I knew my time of lurking was over. I did not have the right to spy on his torment. I didn’t have a right to him at all.
Although it would kill me, it was time to give Colton what he had requested: space. I had taken so much from him, unforgivingly adding to his grief. I had to be selfless for once and truly put him first. And if I had to stay away from him to do that, that’s what I’d do.
Above all, I wanted my boy to heal. Even if that meant he had to do it without me.