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"Eh," I tease. "I'm sure there was something at some point."
Grabbing my bag from the counter, I head upstairs, not stopping until I get into my bedroom. Then and only then, I let the tears fall.
Hidden away from everyone.
IT'S THE NEXT DAY when I almost break. Hospice puts my dad on morphine to ease the pain and tells us to start preparing ourselves for the day when he passes. They sit my mom and me in the living room and tell us that it won't be long now. That his lungs are progressively getting worse. That he may not make it until June, and definitely not until July.
I spend an hour holding my mom until she feels strong enough to go back in with my dad, and then I retreat to my room and crumble to the floor. Quiet sobs wrack through my body, threatening to rip me apart. And the only person I want isn't here to help me.
Because he couldn't even help himself.
It's then that I almost break. I pick my phone up off the ground. I almost call him and tell him that regardless of how much he hurt me, and regardless of what he chooses to do in his spare time, that I need him. But I can't, because allowing myself to be close to someone I'm eventually going to lose is like gripping the thorns on a rose. It's beautiful, but it hurts. And even when it withers, the pain is still there.
So I put my phone down.
And I wipe my eyes.
And I become my own hero.
AS I STEP INTO my parents' room, I catch sight of my dad. He's lying in his bed, trying to look strong, but I know better. He can hardly sit up in bed without help anymore. But still, a wide smile stretches across his face when he sees me.
"Hi Angel," he greets me.
I swallow. "Hey, Dad."
My mom kisses my dad's cheek and gets out of bed. "I'll give you guys some time."
She grips my hand as she passes by, and she doesn't need to say anything to know what she means.
Thank you.
I'm here for you.
It'll be okay.
But it won't be okay, because he's dying, and I don't know how I'm going to get through it.
Tears spring to my eyes at the thought. I do my best to hold them back, turning around for a second to keep my dad from seeing it, but he notices. He always notices.
"Honey," he says softly. "Paige."
I hold myself together as much as possible and turn around, with my head held high and my shoulders straight. My dad gives me a sad smile and shakes his head.
"Don't do that." It's not an order, but a plea.
Still, I focus on my breathing to stay whole. "Don't do what?"
"That." He weakly lifts his hand and gestures up and down my body. “You do not have to be strong for me, Princess. You can be sad, and you can be angry. Hell, scream at God if that’s what you want. You are entitled to all the feelings that this brings because it's hard. But please, don’t try to hold yourself together for my sake. I’m your father, and I will be here to hold you until I take my very last breath. You do not have to be strong for me.”
My lip starts to quiver as I look at the man that I've always loved the most, and the dam breaks. Tears pour from my eyes, and I rush across the room until I'm falling onto his bed. The emotions running through me are strong enough to bring anyone to the ground. I lay my head on my dad's chest as I cry in his arms. He kisses the top of my head, running his hand through my hair.
"Don't leave me," I sob. "Please don't leave me."
"I have to, Princess," he answers honestly. "But I promise you I'll never be far. When the heat of the sun hits your face, or you feel that warmth run through you, that'll be me. Never seen, but always felt."
I lay there for hours, just allowing my hero to be strong for me once more. I'm not sure whether it's for me or for him, but eventually, we both fall asleep like we used to do when I was little. When I didn't want to go to bed, or when I had a nightmare, he would lie down with me. We fall asleep together, and it feels like I'm six again, and everything is going to be all right.
AFTER THAT DAY, AFTER I finally let my guard down, it's like something changes between my dad and me. I spend every waking minute in his room, doing everything I possibly can with him. We watch old home movies and crack jokes. We even figure out ways to prank my mom. She acts mad about it, but she's not hiding the smile she has on her face when she leaves the room from everyone.
