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It wasn’t fair that Connor was being forced to grow up faster than he deserved.
“Text me if you need anything,” I said.
“Will do. I’ll see you tomorrow. Hopefully the day involves more anal beads,” he joked, but the paleness to his face was still there as he tried to hide his hurting with humor.
“Doubtful.”
“Night, Jax.” He hopped out of the truck and dashed toward his front steps. I waited until I was certain he’d made it into his house.
Instead of heading home like I wanted to, I went to the one place I wished I didn’t need to go to see the one person I wished I knew how to get over. I went straight to the nursing home to see my father.
I knew he would probably be sleeping when I arrived. He’d been sleeping a majority of the days lately as his body fought to either preserve his life or move him closer to death—I wasn’t certain.
All I knew was that ever since he ended up in the nursing home, I was there every night, sitting at his bedside while he was in his deep slumber.
I noticed a bike parked outside the nursing home, and I knew it belonged to Amanda, one of Dad’s caregivers who just so happened to be my ex-girlfriend.
I walked into the center and noticed her sitting at the reception desk, reading a novel. She was always reading some book about knights in shining armor saving the day.
I figured it was because of those books that I’d never lived up to what she wanted me to be. Even when I tried to be fully into our relationship, I always knew deep down that something was missing. Passion? A deeper connection?
Who knew.
Maybe I was too fucked up from my past traumas to know how to love someone right. All I really knew was after two years of dating and no engagement, she grew tired of it all. When she mentioned us having a baby and skipping over the marriage step, I knew it was time to cut the cord.
“Hey,” I said, nodding in her direction. She hadn’t even noticed me walk in. When her eyes were locked on those pages, she was distant from the rest of the world, fully immersed in the words on the page unless a patient needed her help.
She shut the book and gave me a half-smile. “Hey.”
“How’s he’s doing?”
“You know, same ole, same ole.” She stood from her chair and hugged her book to her chest. Her brown hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail, and she looked exhausted. I had a feeling her job wasn’t the easiest to perform.
It was clear that Dad didn’t have much time left, and to be honest, I wasn’t certain how to feel about it all. My father wasn’t a good man. He was cruel to anyone and everyone he came into contact with.
A few glances around my house demonstrated what my father had been like toward me when I was growing up. He’d put enough holes in the walls from when his drunken rage emerged through his fists. When those fists hadn’t connected with walls, there was a good chance they’d collided with my face. I couldn’t count on both hands the number of times he’d beat me in every single room of that house for the most mundane things.
If the washer didn’t finish before the evening news—beating.
If strangers were found wandering on our property—beating.
If he heard me snoring too loud—beating.
If he missed my mother—fucking beating.
I always tried to piece together when my father had become the monster he was. He had been cruel and violent before Mom passed away, but Dad lost his mind when she died. I didn’t blame my brother for leaving town. I should’ve done the same thing except I could never build up enough courage to leave Dad on his own.
Maybe a part of me felt the need to take care of him.
Maybe a part of me felt I deserved the beatings.
Either way, I stayed.
I should’ve filled in the holes in the walls, but a part of me didn’t want to forget the damage that my father had done.
Amanda folded her arms, and her stare grew gentle. “How are you holding up?” she asked.
“You know, same ole, same ole,” I muttered, giving her the same words she’d delivered my way. I pulled out the paperback from inside my jacket and held it in the air. “Can I go back?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Okay. Thanks, Amanda.”
Lightning lit up the sky outside, and within seconds, there was a deluge of rain falling.
“Crap,” she muttered, rolling her shoulders back. “It’s really coming down out there, and I rode my bike to work.”
“I’ll give you a lift home when I’m done here if you want.”
I saw the spark of hope in her eyes as I said the words, and I wished I could’ve been the kind of dick who didn’t notice a woman’s emotions. It had to be easier than seeing every feeling that shifted their features.
