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“And so he should,” he bites into the phone. “I’m not going to suddenly forget everything that man did to me because he’s dying.”
He pauses as he listens to the other person speak.
“No, Mom,” he speaks louder. “I said no. Now stop calling me. Stop trying to get me to do something you know I’m never going to do. Let him die. I hope it fucking hurts like hell.”
He ends the call without another word and then whips his phone across the room. It bounces off the wall and falls to the floor with a loud thud, his eyes fixated on where the device now lays face up on the other side of the room.
“Hey.” I try to get him to look at me but he leans forward, dropping his head into his hands on a deep growl.
Knowing I can’t force this, I sit silently next to him and give him the time he needs. I only witnessed a small snippet of the conversation; who knows how long he’d been on the phone before I got here. Who knows what his mother said to him or what buttons she pushed in an attempt to get him to do what she feels like he should do.
It makes me sick. And it makes me sad for Ant. I know better than anyone what having a family like that is like. Always out for their own benefit, never truly putting you or your needs first.
“I’m sorry about that.” He finally lifts his head after several moments and gestures to the phone on the floor. “I shouldn’t have thrown that with Jack in the other room.”
“It’s okay,” I reassure him. “He didn’t see anything. Don’t worry about that.”
“She just makes me so fucking mad,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“You want to talk about it?” I offer.
“Same old bullshit. She’s trying to get me home to make amends with my father. Apparently, he’s taken a turn for the worse, and they don’t think he’s got more than a few days left—if that. I know that I should…” he starts, turning his conflicted gaze to me. “I know that I should go, that I should make peace, but I can’t. I can’t give him that satisfaction. How fucked up is that?”
“Hey,”—I slide into his lap and wrap my arms around him—“don’t do that to yourself,” I say, running my hands gently through his hair.
“I just… Fuck, I don’t know what to do.”
“Does any part of you want to say goodbye to him?” I ask point blank.
“No,” he answers without hesitation.
“You’re sure?” I question, pulling back enough to look down at his face. “I understand better than anyone why you don’t want to give him that satisfaction,” I say, seeing the questions in his eyes that he chooses not to ask. “But I’m asking about you. Do you need to say goodbye? Not for him but for you.”
“I said my goodbyes to the father I wished he would be long ago. I have nothing left to say to him. I have no love left in my heart for him. But I can’t shake this feeling.”
“What feeling?” I press for more.
“Guilt,” he says simply.
“You have nothing to feel guilty for, Ant. He did this to your relationship. This is on him. Do you hear me?” I force his face upward when he tries to look away. “Don’t let him win.”
“I love you.” He says it so naturally that it just rolls off his lips.
“I love you too,” I repeat, leaning in to lay a soft kiss to his mouth.
“How did things go with Courtney? Fuck, I was so preoccupied with this bullshit I totally forgot where you just were,” he says, his forehead drawing together in concern.
“I didn’t.” I pause. “I couldn’t tell her.”
“Bree,” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Before you say anything, I will tell her. I meant what I said last night and this morning—I want this. But I have to do it my own way, and dropping it on her right before she boarded a plane just didn’t feel right.”
“I get it.” He kisses my shoulder. “I don’t care when you tell her, Bree, only that you do. And for your sake, not hers. I see how heavy this is weighing on you.”
“I know.” I let out a breath. “I’ve just never dealt with anything like this before. In all the years we’ve been friends there’s never been such a clear line crossed. I’m afraid she won’t forgive me.”
“Give Court a little credit. She loves you, and I think ultimately she just wants you to be happy.”
