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“It’s not so bad. It seemed bigger before I got started. But now that we’re rolling…” I shrug.
“And how much is all this costing you?”
I frown. “Not that it’s any of your business, but not more than I can afford.”
“And when those lungs arrive and your mother needs an operation?”
“What?” I ask.
“How are we going to cover it, then?”
I blink at my dad. “Are you suggesting I’m using the money for mom’s operation on the restaurant?”
“I’m not the one pissing away millions for a pipe dream.”
My jaw literally falls to the floor. “No, you’re right. You’re not the one paying your wife’s medical bills either.”
My dad glares at me.
“Don’t you dare tell me I can’t take care of my family.”
I know he hates it when I point out I’m the one carrying them financially. “You asked for it. Your comment was unnecessary and, quite frankly, inappropriate.”
“It’s my job to make sure she has everything she needs.”
“You’re making it your job to make sure I’mprovidingeverything she needs. That’s not the same thing.”
“Do you want her to die? Is that it?” Dad asks, raising his voice. A few of the other patrons glance toward us.
But I don’t care. I’m way past the point where what my dad does in public bothers me. He’s always making a scene, putting me in a bad light, making it sound like I don’t give a shit when all I ever do is fucking take care of them.
“You know I don’t want that,” I say. I keep my voice steady. “But it would be nice if once in a while youdon’tmake me feel like I’m only good for the money I bring to the table. This isn’t my job, Dad. I’m not obligated to take care of either of you. I do it because I love Mom. I do it because I’m financially capable of doing it. Not because I owe you or her anything.”
“You owe us more than you think,” Dad growls. “If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t be—”
“Dying?” I interrupt. “You’re always telling me how it’s my fault she’s sick because you weren’t supposed to have me. But the way I see it, if it weren’t for me, she’d be dead already. I’m the one covering it all. So quit telling me how my existence is the problem because it’s the only thing saving her right now. Without me, you can’t afford any of this shit.”
We glare at each other. My dad looks like he’s going to explode, but he can go right ahead and lose his shit all over the place because I don’t care. He’s always made me feel like I’m the problem, but he’s wrong.
I’ve been the solution all this time. I wasn’t my fault I was born. And my mom wanted me. She could have terminated the pregnancy.
“Maybe you should go,” Dad finally says. He folds his arms over his chest.
“Yeah,” I say and stand, leaving my untouched coffee on the table. “Do me a favor. Next time, don’t accept the offer to have coffee.”
I walk away, fuming.
Felt good to stand up to him for once. But still, I don’t feel better. I don’t, for the life of me, understand what is going through my dad’s brain. My dad thinks I’m the villain that’s going to ultimately steal his wife away? I know he loves Mom and I know he doesn’t want to lose her and he is scared. I don’t’ want to lose her, either. And if I do, I’m stuck with just him.
I don’t want to be his son without her.
When I arrive at my apartment building, I feel sick to my stomach. I park underground and ride the elevator up. The doors slide open on the ground floor where someone pushed the button to summon the elevator, and Natalie stands before me. She has a casserole dish in her hands.
I blink at her. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought you something to eat,” she says. “It’s a cottage pie.”
I beckon her into the elevator and take the casserole from her, putting it down on the floor. She looks confused until I wrap my arms around her. I hold onto her tightly and breathe out in a shudder. Her warmth seeps into me, defrosting the ice that settled in my veins.
