Not really.
He handed out advice and let me find my own path.
The opposite of how he was with Mom.
I’d always thought he wasn’t trying to be a parent, but now I know better.
He was just trying to be a better father than he’d been with Mom. He was trying to make it up to this family and the universe by making sure I didn’t detonate my life.
It’s fucking twisted.
And all that time, he lied to my face.
He couldn’t tell me who and what I was.
I don’t know what to do with this information now. All I know is I can’t be in my parents’ house anymore. I need to go.
I need to get away and never look back.
21
ALL LOST WORDS (HATTIE)
Bang!
The rattling gunshot jerks me awake from my sleep on the sofa.
Another nap, seeing how I haven’t managed to squeeze in more than a few hours of shut-eye at a time ever since I came back to Portland.
Something always wakes me up.
Sometimes just the window or Ares getting up to stretch and slurp some water.
Sometimes it’s just that heavy feeling in my chest.
This time, it must be a storm.
I wrap the blanket around me as I sit up, groggy and disoriented.
For a second, I forget where I am. My brain expects to see my old apartment.
Instead of piles of books on cheap particleboard shelves, I see another sofa, just as large as this one, and a wall-mounted TV.
High ceilings with fine wooden accents.
A vase of flowers I had freshened up because it looks more cheerful.
Ethan’s house.
I don’t know why I came back here.
Everything was such a blur yesterday—or was it today?
I spent the whole flight stressing, and then the driver picked me up and brought me back here, so I stayed.
Ares needs company.
His wet nose nudges my hand and I stroke his long, warm ears.
