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"Don't force her. Your job is flexible right now as long as Mark is here. I don't think he'll argue taking on the extra responsibility knowing you're closer to Joel. If it becomes permanent, we'll figure something out later. For now, your presence while she goes through it is all that is necessary. You'd be surprised at how much a woman may change during or after pregnancy."
The tears I've been holding back finally fall in front of the only man that's ever seen me cry. I've never had to face these kinds of decisions before: leaving my family, moving to a place with nothing to go to in regards to a job, passing my responsibilities over to someone else because of an irresponsible decision I made. Joel even brought this shit to the table, and all I did was get pissed at him when he was right all along. For the longest time I've just been expected to step up, no questions asked. How the fuck am I going to be a father? I've been a manwhore since I lost my virginity. I don't know how to be in a relationship. I could fail and she could hate me. Then she could take my kid away from me. My heart speeds up with that outcome settling in. I've lived a life without a parent. I wouldn't wish that on my enemy. Every kid needs a mother and a father. "What if she doesn't want me to be part of it?"
My fingers go to the bands on my wrist again, tugging it like a rubber band with no spring. "No womanwantsto do this alone, Bryant."
"What if she doesn't want me?" I amend my statement.
He smiles again. "You keep trying until she does. But in my experience, most don't allow a child to be created unless there is something deeper there with the person they're creating it with. You're a smart kid, Bryant. Always have been. You're twenty-six and have never been through this before. I never worried about you growing up. You make me damn proud, Son."
"I miss this part of you," I admit.
"I know. And I wish I could change things, but I can't. I have to pay in some way for what I did. Freedom is my wage: mental and physical."
"I don't know that I can leave you here."
He stands and walks around the table. I watch as he comes closer to me, grabbing me by the front of the shirt in his fist, pulling me up from the stool I'm sitting on. He jerks me toward him, one hand on the back of my neck, the other hitting roughly between my shoulders. "Goddammit, Bryant, stop worrying about me," he whispers. "You just promise me you'll send me photos of my grandchild. Got it? I raised you to put family first. Now's the time, Son."
He pushes me away, tears in his eyes. "You are my family," I say.
I step forward and he steps back. "Not if I put you on the visitors’ blocked list. With one request you won’t be allowed here. Nurse!" he shouts.
"What are you doing?" Panic in my voice, I step forward again.
"Nurse!" he shouts again. She's already walking over.
"Is something wrong?"
"I'm ready to go back to my room. I'm tired."
She nods, and before he leaves he says, "You'll thank me for this one day. Don't visit unless you bring them with you. It's time to be a man, Son. Someone else needs you now, just like you needed me when I laid your mother in the ground."
"Dad," I whisper, more tears streaming down my face, wetting my beard.
"Write me. It'll give me something to look forward to. I love you, Bryant. Always have and I always will."
He turns and walks away, forcing distance between us quickly. "I love you too, Dad."
I rush to my truck and open it, grabbing my phone from the center and attempting to call her again. Still going to voicemail. I throw it inside, my fist taking everything out on the side of my truck, denting the metal. My forehead falls to the back window with the onset of the pain in my hand, chest heaving, spit flying as I breathe. I grip the top of the truck, slightly rocking it, as I let the tears fall. Truth be known they've probably been coming for a while. I haven't cried since I was a kid. Probably only then from my dad tearing my ass up over something stupid I did.
But never do I remember crying because I had to give up one thing to have another. My dad has been my lifeline my entire life. He's all I've ever had. When you only have one parent of the two you tend to cling to the one you've got. He's always been my best friend, my mentor, and my protector. And now he's letting me go so I don't have to choose. I fucked up. The first time I nutted in a woman she ends up pregnant. What are the fucking odds?
I fish my phone back out of my truck and dial the number I need, holding it up to my ear. It rings a few times and finally picks up. "What's up, Cuz?"
"Tynleigh's pregnant," I whisper, still catching my breath from the pussy meltdown I'm having.
"Fuck, Bryant." He takes a deep breath. I wait for the 'I told you so' shit I know is coming, but instead he says, "What are you gonna do? You need me?"
And this is the moment I know he'll always have my back, regardless of how fucked up his own shit is. "I'm going to talk to your dad about the stores and then book a flight. If I need a place to stay for a while can I crash at your place? I don't know how things are going to go when I get there."
"You know you've got a place to stay, B. Any-fucking-time you need." His tone evens out. "Take care of your shit and come on. We'll figure this out. Just let me know when you land and I'll be there. When did you find out?"
"When Saxton pulled me off a bitch before I dove dick first into her trying to fix my fucked-up head, marring my face temporarily."
"Well, at least you're still alive to tell about it. I'd probably beat your ass too if you knocked up my sister," he jokes. "At least dismember your dick." I remain silent. "Too soon for jokes?
"Yes."
"Noted. So . . . she's not the one that told you?"
