Prologue
Wedding Day
Ileave before the sun has even thought about rising.
I leave before the chaos is scheduled to hit.
I leave before I can change my mind.
I wear my usual attire of black leggings, sneakers, and Dad’s hoodie.
I place the sealed envelope addressed to Liam front and center on my desk.
When the household wakes up, they shouldn’t miss it when they start searching for me.
I quickly turn before I can change my mind, pick up my bag, and quietly exit my room.
As I walk down the corridor, my bag softly bumps against my legs as I try to carry it quietly.
I have to be extra careful when going down the stairs.
Each time the hardwood floors creak, I swear it’s like a gunshot going off.
I walk past the photos hanging on the walls, past the staged smiles, the curated family happiness, and pretend I don’t feel the judgment for choosing myself for the first time.
I stop at the front door and look back to see the door leading to my dad’s office, the door that has been closed off since he passed away.
My dad was my rock, the only person who truly cared about me and loved me unconditionally.
I remember every time I came home late, I would find my dad sitting behind his massive desk, pretending he was working when he was really just waiting for me.
After finding out my mother wouldn’t be able to give the family the son she so desperately wanted to give them, she was content pretending to be happy, but I knew she despised me to a certain degree. She hated that I wasn’t the boy she was taught was needed to secure the family line.
I turn and go out the front door. The perk of being raised in this house my entire life means I know where the blind spots on the security cameras are, and even though this means it takes a little more finesse and time.
I make it to Dana’s car without getting caught.
She had to park her car three houses down, where our old neighbors have moved out, so there's less likelihood of being caught.
She jumps out of her car the second she sees me.
“You’re really doing it,” she whispers fiercely, hugging me so hard my ribs start hurting. “You’re finally free.”
“Not yet,” I say. “But we’re getting there.
After putting my suitcase in the backseat, we both get into her car, and she starts driving to the next town over.
There are no more words that need to be said.
So, we just listen to the quiet sounds of the radio and hold onto this moment.
When she pulls up to the Greyhound station, I turn towards her and see tears in her eyes.
“Take care of Gram Gram for me, okay?” I say quietly. I used the guise of needing a puppy playdate to take him over to Dana’s house early the day before.
“I will,” she states firmly.
We both get out of the car and give each other one last hug.
When it’s time to go, she presses something into my hand—a keychain of Pinky and the Brain.
“So, you don’t forget who’s taking over the world with you,” she says, voice shaking.
I hug her one last time, turn away, and walk to the bus station.
And I don’t look back.