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“Yeah, I know. We all did.”
He shakes his head, pulling at his hair.
“He was the only actual father figure I could count on. Every time he called me son, I felt like I belonged to a real fucking family. And now he’s gone. He’s gone, Logan, and he won’t ever come back!” he sobs, placing his head on my shoulder.
I rake my fingers through his hair, my heart pinching tightly at my best friend’s own suffering.
“If you have to break, break, Quaid. Let it all out, brother. But don’t let her see your pain. She’s in enough of it to last a lifetime.”
He nods, his head still on me as he cries his fill.
I looked up to Valentina’s father. I wanted his approval and respect. I wanted him to know that I was worthy of his daughter.
But Quaid?
Quaid just loved him like a son loves a father.
The pain he’s feeling might not be the same as Val’s, but it sure comes pretty close.
Not having lost either of my parents, I can only imagine what both are feeling right now. The only one of us who has felt this sort of suffering is Carter, and the loss of his parents broke something in him that no amount of time has ever been able to fix.
When the kettle starts whistling, I don’t move an inch towards it. Not until Quaid stops shaking. I place both my hands on his broad shoulders, shoulders that have hit and plundered his adversaries on the field, but today, look brittle and frail.
“Have you eaten?”
He shakes his head.
“Well try. You’re too big for me to carry you if you faint.”
To that, he lets out a stiff chuckle, and it warms my heart, even if it’s worlds apart from Quaid’s usual genuine laugh.
“How is she?” he asks while I turn to the stove to finally turn off the kettle.
“Not good. I don’t think she’ll be okay for a long time.”
Quaid bows his head, and I look down at his bleeding hand.
I let out a sigh while I get a dishcloth to put some pressure on the wound.
“Stay here while I go get something to disinfect that cut before it gets infected.”
I leave the kitchen and look outside just to see how Val is doing. She’s still looking out into the abyss, but Carter is now sitting next to her, his hand in hers.
If there is anyone who knows about death, then it will be him. He experienced this same horrid day when he was just a kid, those feelings of abandonment never really leaving him. I wonder if that’s how Val feels? Or is her pain stemming from knowing the only parent who ever loved her will not be here to see her life flourish into the thing he always envisioned for her?
Whatever her current thoughts, one thing is clear—Val will never be the same after this. Her father was everything to her. Their bond was one of a kind. Something I can only hope to aspire to have when I become a father.
Fuck.
He’ll never be able to meet his grandchildren either.
That forlorn thought torments me as I walk down the hall to the bathroom and get the first aid kit from under the sink, only to catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes have tears in them, my sockets deep and black from the last couple of sleepless nights since I got the call of her father’s death. It dawns on me that I haven’t slept or eaten either in days, but that will just have to wait.
I can’t fall apart.
Not now.
