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“Yes, it’s me.”
“I thought . . . left.” His voice is so weak, I can barely understand him.
I shake my head back and forth, words failing me.
“She would never leave you,” Tobias says from beside me, and my father opens his eyes a little wider, looking for the voice.
“W-Who—?”
“Hello, Mr. Matthews. I’m Tobias Kosta, but you know me as Nick Baros.”
The sound that rips from my father’s mouth is painful. Not the type of pain that comes from a scrape or bruise; this pain comes from his soul. He knows exactly who Tobias is. He’s the boy who he said died all those years ago. I’m sure it’s a name that haunts him.
“I-I’m so sorry,” he stutters, broken. “I . . . I”
Tobias shakes his head, stopping my father’s next words. I momentarily stop breathing, knowing how devastating it will be for my dad to have Tobias refuse his apology. The lack of closure as his life ends will haunt him in the life after this.
But what Tobias does next is a shock to my entire body. He moves closer to my father’s bed, takes his hand in his, and whispers, “I know. And I forgive you.”
A choked sob rushes from my mouth. The doubt and fear washed away with that acceptance. The weight of what happened to Tobias will always be there, but I know that this is a giant step in letting go of the anger. The gift he’s given my father is one I’ll never forget. My heart is breaking knowing his time is almost up, but a sense of peace fills me at knowing he’ll pass without those heavy burdens he’s carried for years. Forgiveness has allowed him peace too.
My father takes a deep, labored breath, and when he speaks, the words are barely audible. “Th-Thank you.”
A second later, my father reaches for me, and Tobias moves out of the way, letting me sit on the edge of the bed.
“I-I l-love y-you,” my dad mumbles. “Not r-ready.”
“Please don’t speak, Dad. You need your strength.”
His head moves. It’s a small movement, but I know what he is trying to say. No. There is no more strength to be had.
“Be-Before I—”
“Shh.”
“L-Listen. J-Journal. Bed. Fitz—” He starts to say, but then his words go quiet. His eyes widen, and he takes one more breath. “I-I’m sorry,” he tells me.
“It’s not your fault,” I say. My voice is small.
“I-d-don’t want to d-die now. Not read—I-I don’t w-want to l-leave yo—”
“I’ll be okay.” I place a kiss on his hand. “Dad.” A tear slips down his cheek. “You can go. I’ll be okay.” I sniffle quietly, my vision blurring as my eyes mist.
The machines hooked up to him go off. I watch as he takes his last breath. For all those years, he was there for me, and now he’s gone. The room goes quiet. We sit beside him.
“He—” A sob breaks through my lips. “He died. My father died.”
Once embraced in Tobias’s arms, I begin to sob. Tears stream from my eyes. He holds me.
He tells me with no words that he loves me. That he has me. That I will never be alone.
The sky above us is painted with clouds. Tiny raindrops trickle down as we make our way from the car to the small church in town. It feels fitting for the day. Dark and ominous. The heavens crying from the loss of such a selfless man. A man that had secrets only because he tried to protect us after trusting the wrong people. Tobias walks beside me, his arm tightly wrapped around my waist as if he’s trying to hold me up. I welcome his strength right now and lean into it.
Together, we walk into the church, and he leads me to the front.
We sit down.
The pastor starts to speak, his words like a soft hymn above the beating of my heart.
He tells stories about how my father impacted the world and how he would be missed.
Before long, it’s my time to speak. I’m not prepared to stand, nor am I ready to talk, to say my goodbyes, but I know I have to. I owe it to him and myself. I need closure.
I stand from my seat and make my way to the podium, my hands shaking so hard I can’t control them.
From where Tobias stands, I can tell he wants to come to my side, but I shake my head. I need to do this on my own.
Looking out into the room, I see the men and women from this beautiful town. The people who helped raise me when my family tragically died that day not so long ago. Then I see him. Attorney General Fitzpatrick. Sitting amongst my father’s friends, playing the part he has decided to play.
Taking a deep breath, I try to calm myself.
