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“I’ll go with her,” Justin interrupted. He was a bit paler than usual. “If she leaves, I’m leaving with her. She’s here for me.”
“Fine!” His father closed his eyes and leaned back, going silent.
I went to the chair in the corner I had claimed the last time I was here. The chair was uncomfortable, but I’d sit there as long as Justin needed me to, even if my ass turned numb.
The first thirty minutes, it was quiet. Justin just sat there and watched his dad.
Then his dad opened his mouth and I wanted to pulverize him into mushy nothingness.
“This could have all been better,” his dad said, finally looking at his son through tired slitted eyes.
“What do you mean?” Justin asked softly.
I knew exactly where this was going, and I wanted to tell the man to shut up. I bit the inside of my lip to keep silent.
“All this. Our lives. It could have been better. I was working toward better until you fucked it all up.”
Justin remained still and silent, his body braced for his father’s words. Something he was used to. I curled my hands in my lap, glaring hard at his father. But his father never looked at me, pretended I didn’t exist.
And he went into Justin hard. All the words I heard from Lindie, I heard come out of that man’s mouth. The same exact bullshit.
You’re the reason we’re in this situation.
This is all your fault.
If you had never done that.
Ungrateful piece of shit.
I gave you everything.
I swallowed my bile as he shitted on Justin more and more.
“It should have been you! You should have drowned that night. Not her.”
The chair scraped back, slamming against the wall behind me, and finally he was looking at me. I hadn’t even realized I had jumped to my feet. The smirk on his face was enough.
“Let’s go,” I said.
“I’m not done talking to my son. Are you really going to deny a dying man time with his son?”
“I’m going to deny an abusive man his abuse. Dying isn’t an excuse to be an asshole.”
That drew a chuckle out of him.
“That wasn’t meant to be funny,” I practically growled out.
“And yet it is,” he rasped out. “It’s very funny.”
“Funny enough that we’re leaving. I’ve been leaving a lot of decisions to Justin, but in this, we’re leaving. Maybe when you learn how to stop being an asshole while you die, he’ll come back to visit.”
Once again, the man laughed. It was wet, guttural, and seemed to take more effort than it was worth.
I blew out a breath and grabbed Justin’s arm, tugging him until he was standing with me. The man kept laughing as we left the room. Even after I shut the door, he kept going, his voice muffled.
“Justin,” I softly called out, resting my hand on his forearm.
Justin was completely pale, and while he seemed steady enough, it felt like at any moment he was going to break down and cry. I reached out and gently grabbed his hand, not saying anything.
