Not the fear.
Not the ghost version of me who thought pain was the only language he’d ever speak.
Just…me.
Whatever that ends up being.
I have to stay in the hospital for a few more days for supervision by Julian—honestly, fuck that guy, but also, maybe thank him for saving my life. As expected from my bro’s bro.
The whole time, Dad’s been here, accompanying me, and it’s felt nice. Bit awkward at times, but definitelynice.
Safe.
For once, I don’t feel like he’ll up and leave, and I’ll be all alone.
Today, he brought Miley to visit me, and she cried like hell, hugging me tight and burying her face in my chest.
My poor Miles of Trouble thought she’d never see me again, and she couldn’t believe it.
She climbs onto my lap and gives me boxes of pastries to cheer me up, then she ends up devouring half of them herself.
“When are we going to see Marcus again, Pressie?” sheasks like a little idiot right as Dad is sitting in a chair right across from us, peeling some apples.
Yes,apparently, Dad peels apples for me now.
I’m still thinking this isn’t real.
And I don’t want to ruin it with the “Hey, Dad, so I’m kind of into a guy now, thanks for listening. Also, can we add your acceptance to our twelve-step program with Dr. Fenwick while we’re at it? Many thanks.”
Yeah, no. I’d rather not ruin it.
“Yo, Mimi, whatever are you talking about?” I laugh it off, stuffing her face full of madeleines.
She chews them in record time and opens her big mouth again. “Marcus, Pressie. He said he’ll skate with me again, remember?”
Dad’s eyebrows are at his hairline now.
Little shit Miley.
“You should hug him like you hugged me and maybe buy him a gift.” She pats my cheek. “He was so sad at your funeral when you died.”
“Wait…” I gulp. “Marcus was at the funeral?”
“He was.” Dad pauses peeling the apples. “He demanded that Andrew provide him access to the service.”
Marcus did that? He always said he hated asking his dad for anything.
Now, I want to see what type of expression he wore at the funeral.
Was he really sad?
Why would he be sad when he already said goodbye?
Now that I’m not drowning in delusions, I’m pretty sure I hallucinated him when I was shot. My brain’s last attempt to give me something nice after he sabotaged my entire relationship with Marcus—many thanks for that, asshole.
Anyway, now that I’m thinking logically, there’s no way Marcus would’ve been there at the time, no matter how much I would’ve loved it.
Dad straightens. “I asked Marcus about the nature of your relationship.”
