I held his gaze and nodded. I knew were this was going.
“Imagine seeing it all the time. Imagine seeing the most important person to you in the world, constantly putting themselves in danger, making stupid choices and not giving a shit how it impacted those around them,” he said.
“I know. I’ve been so selfish. I’m sorry. I’ve been talking to a therapist. I know I was putting myself at risk because I—I didn’t want to go out like my father. And losing my mom so suddenly. I guess it messed with me in ways I didn’t even recognize. But I never did it to hurt you.”
“Yeah, but you did,” he said.
“I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t care,” he said. “You never cared enough to call before you left. To say where you were going. But I was always there, wasn’t I? Walking behind you, sweeping up the pieces all too eagerly. You let me.” It was the most vehement I’d seen Skip. It seemed he had changed as much as I had while we were apart.
I swallowed. Nothing he said was a lie.
“We’re done with this, Sanders,” he said. His arms were crossed and he was focused on the blank screen of the television.
“What?” I asked with a dry, cracking voice.
“This enabling of each other.” His ears and cheeks reddened.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He wouldn’t look at me. His chest was heaving with anger and his chin quivered. “I deserve better,” he said.
“Fuck yes, you do. I want you to be happy. You deserve everything.”
He sniffed once and looked at me tentatively.
“I needed you when Dad died. And you left.”
I balled my fists until it hurt. “I’ve been so selfish.”
“I know you were in pain. I was hurting too,” he said.
“I’m not gonna do it again, mate. I’ll show you in a hundred ways. Whatever you need.”
Skip sighed. “I think it’s time to close down OTB.” He gathered his breath. “No. I know that I don’t want to do OTB anymore. It was always your passion and not mine.”
“Okay.” I sensed it was coming but it still stung. It really was the end of an era. “We will work out the details when you’re better. There aren’t any clients right now anyway.”
We sat in silence until, after a few minutes, he asked, “You’re talking to someone?”
“Yeah. They’re helping me work through some shit.”
“Good. You’re allowed to be more than one thing, Sanders. I’m your best friend for who you are, not because you can charm a car salesman out of his coat.”
I fought to keep my features smooth when he said “best friend” but the relief was so immense that I couldn’t hide a tremor in my lip. “I’m glad I haven’t fucked it up so bad.”
“You have a lot of making up to do. Not just to me.” He held my gaze.
“Oh yeah, I know.”
“Strength comes from living through the pain, not ignoring it. Your father told me that.”
I squeezed his hand.
“Skip!” Roxy gasped out behind me, as if summoned on cue from the heavens.
My head snapped to the door where she stood, her hand to her mouth, face ashen. She was dressed head to toe in black. If she saw me sitting in the chair, she didn’t acknowledge it.
