I spend the next two hours, shaking hands and receiving condolences from the same complete strangers from the funeral who now fill my parent’s house.
I can’t count the amount of times I’ve said 'thanks' or, 'it means a lot'.
It’s all bullshit.
I can’t stand it.
It’s suffocating.
I zigzag my way through the mass of people in the living room and sprint up the stairs, coming to a halt outside the room that used to be mine and my brother’s playroom when we were kids.
I grip the door handle and turn it, stepping into the room.
It hasn’t changed at all, it’s just how I remember it.
Nostalgia floods me like a tsunami, sending me stumbling back against the wall.
The room is painted royal blue, pictures and drawing we did, cover the walls, a small desk, and a computer it in the far-right corner next to a TV and XBOX. Stacks of boxes filled with toy cars and LEGO in the other.
There's a small bookshelf to the left of me, filled with books and DVDs, Harry Potter was always his favourite, and me being the older brother, he would always get me to read them to him.
I read to him so many times I know those damn books word for fucking word, getting to the point I didn't have to read at all, I could tell him the story off by heart.
I don't think I'll ever be able to read those books or watch those movies ever again, the thought of it is too damn painful.
The grey carpet I’m standing on, dotted with small marks, patches that have been stained from all the years it was subjected to spilt drinks, paint splatters and a small scorch mark where I set fire to it accidentally when I was eleven.
I laugh at the memory. The memory of Luke charging across the room, tumbler of water in hand, tipping it over the small fire, then not hesitating to go and tell on me to my parents.
The little snitch.
Mommy! Daddy! Ky Ky burn carpet!
His little six-year-old voice echoes in my mind.
My stomach knots and a sob rips from me and I sink down the wall until my ass hits the floor, my knees under my chin. I squeeze the heel of my hands into my temples as tears fall into my lap.
“Kyle?” Hayley stands in the doorway, peering down at me.
Fuck she’s so beautiful. She’s wearing black heels and a flowy black dress that ends mid-calf, her hair is curled and falls freely, framing her beautiful face.
She sinks to her knees and sits beside me, stretching her legs out, crossing her ankles as she leans back against the wall.
“This was our room when we were kids. We used to spend hours in here.” I wipe my tears away with my jacket sleeve. “I still remember it like it was yesterday, it hasn’t changed one bit, my parents are ridiculously sentimental.”
Hayley takes a moment to gaze around the room, smiling softly. “It’s a great room, you must have had so much fun in here.” Her gaze returns to me.
“You bet.” I drop my head and we sit in silence for a while, just sitting.
Just having her with me makes me feel better.
“How is he dead, Hayley?” I choke. “How can he be gone, and we’re still here? It makes no fucking sense.”
“I know. I know.” Her hand reaches for my arm. “That’s how it felt when my mom died, I couldn’t understand how she could be there one day and gone the next, how life just carries on. Though we had time to prepare, we knew it was coming at some point, for you it was a shock, unexpected.”
She rises up onto her knees and leans her forehead against mine, cupping my face in her hands. “It will get easier, I promise, the pain will always be there, but I guess you just get better at living with it.”
I reach up and grip her wrists, meeting her gaze. “I know you probably still need time, time to figure everything out, but I need you to know that I will never give up on you, on us. After everything I’ve done, I have no right to ask you to forgive me, to trust me again, but I’m a selfish bastard who’s going to ask you anyway.”
Her eyes fill with tears.
“Never in my life did I think I would find anything close to this, never thought I would love anyone like this, love someone so much it hurts, it feels like I’m tearing apart. You want answers, and I’ll give them to you, I’m ready whenever you are, I just… I need you, Hayley.”
She breaks into a sob.
I take her face in my hands, smoothing away the lose strands of hair that stick to her face.
“I need you too,” she utters. “I need you so much.”
I lower my knees as my left arm snakes around her waist, pulling her onto my lap, her knees either side of my thighs as she straddles me. Her face falls into my shoulder as she cries, the lapels of my jacket fisted in her hands.
I stroke my hand over her hair, soothing her, kissing her temple.
She pulls back slightly, meeting my gaze. “Why didn’t you just tell me you knew who he was?”
“I panicked,” I sigh. “How could I even begin to tell you that the man that… that raped you, was my real father? It would have destroyed you, destroyed us before we’d even began. I was really fucking selfish, I was terrified that if I told you, you’d run, and I’d never see you again.”
“You didn’t think I could handle the truth?”
“Of course I did. Hayley you are so strong, one of the strongest people I know, you dealt with what he did to you all on your own… but I was convinced that if you knew the truth, all you'd see when you looked at me, was him, a reminder
