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Things are beautiful and magnificent and everything I could ever want them to be.
And then he pauses in the middle of getting dressed, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, one of my shirts - this time a clean one - in his hands waiting to be put on, and asks, “Can I see my dad?”
The happy bubble pops. Because yes, things are fucking great, but we are far from a happy ending.
“Your dad…” I say like an idiot, desperately trying to buy myself some time. “That’s - that’s not something that can happen, Casey. We talked about that."
"I know. I guess I just thought maybe something might have changed. That you could make an exception or something."
I wince. "I can't, Case. Trust me, I would if it was in my power, but it's not. I’m sorry.”
“Okay.”
I stare at him, waiting. Surely it’s not okay. It can’t be okay. This boy fucking loves his dad. In the little bits and pieces that I’ve gotten from him about the man, it’s been obvious.
There’s this picture in his file. A picture of him and his dad on a camping trip, arms slung around each other, Casey holding up a fish and grinning at the camera. Casey’s dad isn’t looking at the camera. He’s not looking at the fish. He’s looking at Casey, his eyes shining bright with joy and pride, his smile big enough to make your chest ache if you look at it for too long.
They love each other very much.
“It’s not okay,” I finally say, unable to bear the lie.
“No,” he whispers, his voice shaking. His bottom lip wobbles. He turns away from me, his shoulders curling forward. “But that doesn’t matter, does it?”
It matters.
Of course, it matters.
You being okay is all that fucking matters.
“I can try,” I tell him.
“Can you really, though?” He pulls my shirt on. It hurts, seeing it on him. Like proof of how much of a fucking disappointment I am as his daddy. He still won’t look at me. “We don’t lie, Jake. We don’t break promises. So please just - just don't, okay?”
“Okay.”
But it’s not okay.
Not even 24 hours as his daddy and I’ve ruined it.
“Case-”
“I have a Dr. Singh appointment.”
“Oh.” I rub the back of my neck. “Okay.”
He does something I can’t see before turning to me with a wobbly smile. His cheeks are clear of tears, but damp. He just wiped them away. My gut twists. “Oh, baby boy…”
“I’ll come find you after Dr. Singh?” he asks, cutting me off.
I push my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching for him. All I want to do is drag him into that bed with me and hold him for hours. For days. For eternity. Until everything really is okay.
“How about we meet at the pool?” I suggest.
“Yeah.” His smile gets a little stronger. His eyes a little brighter. “Yeah, I’d like that. Let’s meet there.”
I step forward, planning to give him a kiss before sending him on his way.
He turns before I reach him, walking to the door and leaving the room without hesitation. He never even looks back.
