But I’m becoming more and more selfish.
Tessa is a big part of that change and I want to get better for her. I want to feel free of the burden I’m carrying the same way I want her to be uncontrolled by hers.
I don’t think she carries any guilt about the death of King, the same way I do for Elaine’s, but I’m certain she needs all the help she can get to win at the game of life.
So, stupidly, I want the same. I want to have my shit together to really appreciate her. It’s stupid as I will go back to my life in New York as soon as I’m done here—I don’t see myself living far away from my son—but deep inside I know it’s the step I need to take next.
Mustering up all my strength, I knock on the door of the three-bedroom house I spent every Sunday night in for years. I never came here alone. Elaine was always holding my hand. I almost asked Tessa, but how weird would that have been. She also needed to go to the track and speak with her coach, and I wasn’t ready to set foot in there. I still need to ponder and think of the danger this could be. Of course, it isn’t the excuse I gave her. No one wants to know they’re dating a loser.
Adjusting my bag over my shoulder, I desperately wait for the door to open, hoping Pat and Sue are home. I didn’t want to tell them I was passing by in case I’d change my mind. How many times can you hurt the same people when all they want is to be close to you and all you desire is to keep them at arm’s length?
Maybe I shouldn’t have come?
Maybe there is time to turn back and forget about sharing the truth?
What one doesn’t know can’t hurt them anyway.
But when I hear the lock of the door, I stay petrified they would see me walking away, like the coward that I am.
Sue comes into view. Wonderful and lovable Sue, with her round cheeks and gentle eyes. Her face lights up when she sees me standing before her, and my heart sinks into the pool of guilt my life has become.
“Oliver!” She exclaims, “my sweet Oliver, come here.” She opens her arms and I dive in, knowing I don’t merit the haven she’s offering but taking it anyway.
I’m a taker. Always have been. I don’t give much, but I take whatever people offer. Well except for Anna, Naomi and Aito, and maybe Lars.
I backtrack my thoughts. It’s the Sue effect. This is her power. She makes you feel like you’re worth something. One of her hugs makes you see yourself at your best. I shouldn’t indulge when I’m here to break her heart and make amends. I try to step away, but she holds me tight. I fold in over her, almost crushing her but it doesn’t matter. She’s not letting me go. And, greedily, I like it.
“Let the boy breath, Sue.” Pat says from behind her. I can see in his eyes how pleased he is to have me here. Sue finally lets me go while Pat closes the door and taps me on the shoulder.
“Welcome home, Son.” Dagger into my soul while he rips my heart out. If only he knew.
“Thanks,” I answer, already choked up. Why the fuck did I come here? But he doesn’t let my doubts crawl under my skin.
“Come on in, Oliver. What a great surprise. Do you want a beer? We have some of the ones you like in the second fridge.” Can they shred my heart even more? Pat doesn’t drink beer, but they keep the ones I used to drink. Ready for the day I would come back.
“No thanks, I don’t drink anymore.” They both look at me with a surprising look. And then it happens. They really look at me. They see me. And it might be because I wear my pain on my sleeve and my distress in my eyes, but their face falls. All of a sudden, they understand I’m not here for a courtesy visit. I’m not here because I miss them and want to commemorate their daughter.
“Come sit down then. I’ll get you a glass of water,” Sue says before trotting toward the kitchen. I sit on the sofa where I sat down with Elaine so many times and hunch forward. My eyes fall on the mantel and land on a picture of us. Happy. Engaged. In love. Averting my gaze, I fall into Pat’s eyes. They are wondering what I have to say. I can only imagine all the questions he has. But even the worst scenario won’t come close to the truth. I killed their daughter and grandbaby. And I hate myself for it.
“Oliver, stop overthinking, leave your hands alone and look at me,” Pat finally says after a few minutes of silence. I try. I try hard to look up, to tell him all I have to say without a word, to be able to hold his gaze but courage fails me. I release a shaky breath and feel a tear fall down my cheek.
“I’m sorry,” I utter before the sobs take over me. Sue comes in like the ray of sunshine that she is and sees me crying, takes me in her arms again.
I feel better. I feel safe. I feel forgiven even before I say anything.
“Oliver, what is it, Son.”
Son. My own father never called me son. He barely called me Oliver.
Another shaky breath, more tears and through trembling lips, I hear my voice telling them the truth.
“Elaine was pregnant. We discovered it the morning of. We wanted one last thrill. I
