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I do know, and I always have known, that I will have a family with Andi. I will make her my wife, because by saying the words out loud, defending her against my father, it’s what feels right. It’s who I am.
I reach my parents’ house and dig my keys from my pocket to ride my bike over to Andi’s. Dad must have called Mom, because the second I start up the bike, she is running out of the house.
“Dominic!” She runs down the driveway.
Frustrated again, I plant my feet on the ground to balance my bike. My body shakes with anger, and it makes it harder to hold my ride upright. Mom walks around to my side and grabs my face. I gently pull my head from her hands and look away. I can’t look at her. She’s just as responsible for this from what Dad said.
“I didn’t agree with him, but he promised me it was the best thing to do,” she says.
Still, I haven’t heard an apology. No one is sorry, they’re all only justifying their actions. I glare at her, wondering how they could have kept this from me for so long. Didn’t the guilt eat them away? Couldn’t they see that when I returned home, I was miserable? “You lied to your son. You had a grandchild on the way, and you didn’t give a fuck.”
“Watch your language at my house, boy,” she hisses.
“I’m done with this bullshit.” I start up my bike again. I won’t be forgiving them until they both apologize for the shit storm they’ve created. Until they both mean it until they realize what they’ve done.
