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Makenna never moves when I come home. She thinks by pretending she’s asleep that she’s protecting me from my guilt. She’s wrong. Nothing takes away the guilt. Nothing. Guilt and regret. They’re settled in deeper than the poisonous roots of my family tree—a family tree that should stop with me. Thatneedsto stop with me. In my world, the sins of the father are passed down to the son. I won’t do that to a child. I won’t force this life on another innocent soul.
What if Makenna wants children?
How do I tell her I can’t let that happen? How do I decide who to take the choice away from—her or a child that hasn’t even been conceived yet?
I know she’s awake. I feel it in the rhythm of her breathing when I bring my body against hers. I feel it in the speed of her heartbeat when I trace my hand across her skin. She’s so fucking beautiful with the moonlight dancing over her face. She looks so peaceful, so delicate. And I suppose in some ways she is. But I also know how fierce she can be. I know the strength she’s found within. I know the dragons she slays in her sleep.
Sometimes I think I should’ve stayed away from her. I should’ve kept my distance, not brought her into my world. Then, I feel her next to me as I breathe her in, the way I’m doing right now, and it all seems so perfect. I can’t imagine my life any other way.
27
Callisto
Myocardial infarction.
That’s what the doctor told Makenna when we showed up at the hospital. She’s outside talking to him now, speaking in terms I don’t understand. I don’t know what ventricular fibrillation or cardiomyopathy is, but one thing is clear.
My father had another heart attack.
Makenna and I had barely finished breakfast when I got the call from Franco. He wasn’t panicked. There was no fear or uncertainty in his voice. He was simply… Franco.
Right now, he’s sitting in the waiting room just inside the cardiac trauma center sipping his coffee and reading the news like he’s waiting for an oil change. But on the other side of that cool exterior, I know he cares about my father. I know he’s just as worried as I am, thinking the same thing I am—Something has to give. This is his second heart attack in three years.
The curtains are drawn, leaving my father’s room dark and cold. The only sound is a monitor next to his bed that keeps a steady rhythm with his heart. He’s sleeping. Whether it’s because of whatever is flowing through the IV stuck in the top of his hand or because his body can’t find the energy to stay awake, I don’t know. I close my eyes and breathe in, praying that when I open them this won’t be real.
It is.
I’m not sure I’m strong enough to do this again.
I am.
I have to be.
I pull my chair next to the side of his bed and take his other hand. “You have a helluva way of proving a point.”
Past the darkness of this room, beyond the stillness that surrounds us, I see the horizon. Change is rolling in with the clouds, and it’s coming soon. My father has been talking about it for months. I’ve never looked beyond the subtle hints he drops or the look he sometimes gets in his eye. Sure, my mind goes there, but I don’t let it linger because my father is invincible. As long as he’s alive, he’s the Boss. That’s just the way it is. That’s the way it’s always been.
I sit here staring at what’s left of a once strong and determined man, and I wonder if somehow he knew. If he was trying all this time to warn me, to prepare me. He’s clever—and extremely stubborn—so, I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s lying in a hospital bed, his body broken, and I feel like I’m the one who’s shattered.
How do I do this? How do I take an irreversible turn into the darkness, a turn where the only way out is death? How can I expect Makenna to walk into that darkness with me?
Because walking away from this means walking away from him.As much as I resent the life I was born into, I don’t resent the man lying in front of me. Not anymore.
“You win, old man. I’ll do it. I’ll take your seat at the head of the table.” I give his hand a squeeze and look into eyes that remain closed, willing them to open and look back at me. “But I need you there next to me for a little while longer. Deal?”
He doesn’t respond. The monitor still beeps. The curtains don’t suddenly swing open and light up the room at my concession. Instead, my father just lies there, covered in blankets and lost in sleep.
I drop my head, resting my forehead against the hand I’m holding. “You aren’t allowed to do this goddammit. I won’t let you leave me.”
As if I have any control in the matter.
Makenna lays her hand on my shoulder, then leans down to kiss the top of my head, drowning my fears with a simple touch. I wonder how long she’s been there, what she heard.
“Hey,” she says when I lift my head to look at her.
“Hey.”
“He’s going to be okay.” She says the words with a confidence that instantly calms my soul. She spoke with the doctor. She understands all the things I can’t. Saving people is what she does. So, I trust her. Then she smiles and adds, “And so are we.”
