The Real

“Dad, what’s up?”

“Are you still seeing Abbie?” When I remained quiet he turned my way. “No?”

I shook my head and he didn’t miss it. He scrutinized me far too closely than I was comfortable with. “That’s a shame. I really liked her. I liked when you brought her home for Christmas. It was . . . nice, different.”

Abbie had made it work for the three of us. She’d spent all day in my mother’s kitchen cooking. My father was right next to her, helping, laughing, telling her stories I’d never heard. As much as I hated it, she was the perfect buffer between us. Just like my mother had been.

“Yes, it was nice,” I agreed.

His eyes zeroed in on my face. “What happened?”

I shrugged, unsure if he was addressing my face or Abbie. I chose to go with the latter. “Didn’t work out.”

“Something you did?”

I nodded sliding my hands into my pockets.

He smirked. “Some days it’s clear that you’re my son. I fucked up with your Mom and often.”

I furrowed my brows. His visit was shock enough, him getting personal was . . . never.

“So, do you need anything?”

His whole body tensed as he looked at me with contempt. “No, I guess not.” Anger radiated off him as he shook his head in a way that said he should have known better.

“I see you’re getting pissed, which is normal, but do you want to help me out here? I’m confused.”

“What confuses you?” He spoke up quickly. “I’m sixty-five years old. I have shit to look forward to. I’m here to check on my son.”

“Because you promised her you would,” I shot back.

“Because I miss my family,” he countered with just as much contempt before he fisted his hands at his sides and spoke low. “I miss her Cameron. And it’s not getting easier.”

“You aren’t happy here,” I admitted. “You’ve never been happy here. You resent me for being here. But it wasn’t my decision.”

“I’m not going to be happy anywhere,” he said gruffly. “It wasn’t just her decision, you know. We decided together to move closer to remain a part of your life.”

“Right,” I said dryly.

“I’m not leaving you, no matter how hard it is for us.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said walking toward the front door.

“Dad, I’m sorry. This is coming out of nowhere. I don’t know what you want me to say.” He expelled a breath and paused his retreat.

“I didn’t do a lot of things right. But Christmas with you and Abbie was the first time I felt like things might be okay. It was the first time I felt that way since she died. We had forty years together. I know I won’t move on from that. But I don’t want to miss any more of your life. Because no matter what you think, I was always aware of what was going on with you. Always. I know everything you told her. She was your best friend, but she was mine too. I was a shit father, but she let me off the hook. I don’t deserve the same grace from you and I understand that, but I still want to know.”

“You weren’t a shit father,” I said sucking back the emotion that threatened.

“Let’s not start with lies,” he said softly. “All I have to think about now are regrets. I was an ornament at your wedding and I knew which parent you truly wanted there. I had no idea you were divorcing Kat. I missed your whole marriage. I wasn’t there when I should have been. And I’m sorry. I’ll never be her. But it’s not her promise I’m trying to keep anymore. I miss my son. I want to know. But only when you’re ready and if you want to.” He took one last look at me. “Put some ice on that eye.”

I stood stunned as he shut the door behind him.

I waited a long time for runner’s high. I’d run endless miles for the moment when I felt that adrenaline rush. Confident in my stride it surprised me when my focus became singular and my body fluid in motion, no longer forced, but flying. The feeling was cut short by the realization I couldn’t share it with the one person I wanted to.

Three weeks had passed since Cameron stood outside my door and every day of those weeks had been agony. Not one of those days did I breathe evenly, not one of those nights had I slept more than a few hours. Every step I ran in any direction felt like a step away from Cameron. I wanted to ignore the truth. I wanted to forget whatever it was keeping us apart and be ignorantly blissful again.