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When Rhett’s eyes meet mine over his shoulder, I feel like my insides are being ripped out. “I’m not walking away, Mo. You did that six years ago.”
Monroe
“You want some more bacon?”
I hold the plate out toward my father, but he lifts the fingers on his good hand and shakes his head. “N-no. Th-thank you.”
He never ceases to amaze me. After all this time, he’s still making progress. The doctors told us his speech might never be normal, and it’s not, but it’s pretty darn close. His words come slowly, but they’re getting clearer.
“More coffee?”
He shakes his head.
Dad’s eyes track me while I move about the kitchen, washing the breakfast dishes and putting them away. Times like this, I wonder what he’s thinking about. Does he see my mom in me? Does it hurt him to think of her the way it hurts me? Or maybe he’s thinking I’m a shit caregiver and he’d be better off at a home.
Draping the towel over the sink, I look at my dad. “Can I ask you a question?”
He nods toward the seat. I pull it out and sit down.
“What are you thinking about right now?” I ask. “Sometimes you watch me, and I wonder what you’re thinking.”
His brow dips low, and after a few seconds he looks over my shoulder with a blank stare. Eventually he speaks. “Th-that I’m so p-proud of you.”
I wrap my hand around his good one so he can feel my touch. “I’m proud of you too.”
Dad squeezes his eyes shut, and I scoot my chair closer to his wheelchair. “You okay?”
He tries to shake his head. It’s more of a jerky movement, but one I understand. “I w-wish I would’ve d-died.”
“What?” I gasp. “No. No, Dad, don’t think that.”
His jaw tightens. “Th-this isn’t the life I w-wanted for you.”
“Dad—”
He squeezes my hand tight. “I want you t-to close the sh-shelter and go b-back to school.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”
“That was my d-dream, not yours, M-Monroe.”
“Dreams change, Dad. That’s the thing about life—it’s constantly shifting and rearranging itself, and with that comes new perspectives. Animal Haven might not have been my dream in the beginning, but I love what I do, and I love those animals. I’m not keeping it for you; I’m keeping it for me.”
Dad’s eyes well up with tears. “What about s-school?”
I don’t bother telling him I’ll likely never go back—or that even if I wanted to, they wouldn’t accept me. My advisor made it clear that getting accepted into the program to begin with was difficult, and once a seat is given up, it’s virtually impossible to reclaim. I could always apply to a different program, but there are only so many in the United States, and I don’t want to move away from Heaven. Not anymore.
“You let me worry about that, okay?”
He doesn’t look happy with my request, but he squeezes my hand to tell me he’ll oblige. For now.
I kiss his cheek. “Want to go in the living room and watch a movie? Or we can take a walk. It’s beautiful outside.”
With sad eyes, my dad shakes his head. “I would l-like to lay back d-d-down for a while.”
Tilting my head, I frown. “You just got up an hour ago.”
“Haven’t b-been sleeping well.”
