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He whistles loud, undoubtedly impressed with the house. “This place… wow.”
“You like my house, my body, and my tats. Now what do we need to talk about?”
He stops looking around, his gaze locking with mine with the familiar regret staring back. Shit, here we fucking go.
“Achilles, I’m sorry.”
“We’re past this.”
“Are we?”
“Yeah, seeing as I’ve accepted your apology the last nine years.”
“It doesn’t seem like you accept it when you’re keeping this massive wedge between us.”
“There’s no wedge.”
“You’ve been back in Nashville quite a while and seen your mother twice. You graduated from the Police Academy without as much as notifying us. I can understand you having resentment toward me, but this is killing Sandy. She’ll do anything to have you back in her life. Please stop making her pay for my mistakes.”
Guilt slams into me full force. “I’m not making her pay for anything.”
“Then why won’t you at least take your mother’s calls?”
“We text.” It’s a stupid comeback, but it’s the truth.
“You’re not a parent, but when you are, you’ll understand. I’ll stay away if it means you’ll give your mom the time of day.”
Dad was a drunk. A stupid, sloppy drunk unable to beat back the disease. And I’ve held it against him even when others could forgive.
“I’m a different man and wish you would give me a chance to prove it.” There’s desperation in his voice that stirs deep inside.
“I almost lost everything by stepping in that fight to help you out.”
“I’ll live with that on my soul forever.”
“Could have gone to juvie, or worse. Fucked up my chance at a future. If it wasn’t for Rich, I don’t know what would have happened. Where I’d be right now.” Acid bleeds into my words.
“Fucking finally.”
“What?”
“Fucking finally, you’re ready to hash it out. All these years, you’ve kept the rage and bitterness inside. I’ve been waiting… no, I’ve been praying for this chance since the day I went to rehab.”
“You don’t know what rage is.”
“Then tell me.” He throws his arms wide to his sides. “Unleash that Achilles temper. Give it to me, I can take it. I deserve it. Shit, I welcome the anger just to be in the same room with you.”
“I’m not unleashing.”
“Respect.”
“What about respect?”
“That respect you carry is one of many badges of honor. Even before the military, you knew the meaning of respect.”
“Kind of an odd time to notice that.”
“You won’t unleash on me out of respect. And, in turn, we can’t get past it until you let it all out. Right now, forget I’m your old man—unload the hate and anger.”
Years of pent-up anger roll through my head, my body stringing tight. Dad’s look is a mix of expectation and fear. He’s prepared for the worst. I prop my hands on my hips and glance to the side.
My eyes instantly zero in on the sports bottle on the counter filled with pink liquid. Harley’s energy drink. I inhale, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. I check my phone, and there are no notifications from my alarm app showing how she got in.
I shelve that for later; knowing she’s close wipes out the anger. Her face flashes in my mind. How I avoided her, letting my stubborn streak win out. Years lost with her suffering at the result of my actions. No games, no drawn-out resentment, no time wasted. She forgave me. Let it all go. Accepted me as I am.
Something inside me shifts, and a sense of peace settles. All the things I’ve wanted to say to him no longer seem relevant. It’s over. I’m my own man with my future planned out. A future that includes the woman down the hall undoubtedly working her way to a nervous breakdown.
I look back, and he’s clearly preparing for the worst. “Since the day I enlisted and hit the road to boot camp, I’ve been around people who have courage. So much fucking courage it’s a part of their soul. I’d like to be half the person some of my brothers are. Especially the ones who didn’t make it home.”
He drops his eyes to the floor, but not before I catch the glistening. Then I hear a tiny whimper from the back of the hall.
It’s time to give it to him straight and move on. “You were sick with a disease. I hope like hell I never know what that feels like, but at the end of the day, you got help. That takes a special kind of courage. Courage is something I respect more than anything. I’ve spent years trying to work my resentment out of my system. And you’re right, I may have accepted your apology, but there was a deep-rooted animosity that lingered. Dad, I’m not unloading on you. That’s not the answer and won’t solve anything. I’m forgiving you and wiping the slate.”
