“I know,” I choke out. “I’m scared too.”

“Benji?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you help me?”

And this is it, here, this moment: this is my last chance. This is where I could say I’m going with him. This is where I could say I’m tired, I’m so very tired, and I don’t want to go back. This is where I could say we’ll cross all the way together. That we’ll be side by side for the rest of time, and that will be all that matters.

But I don’t. I say none of that. I say none of what is tearing my head and heart to shreds, because there is a part of me that wants to cross with him. There’s a subtle whisper that I think has been here since I arrived, and it causes me to ache because it’s singing me home. It’s nothing like the voices in the black. It’s kind and soothing, telling me all will be well, that the world can be a wonderful place, but sometimes it’s okay to just leave it behind and come back home. I don’t know how my father has been able to ignore it for so long.

So instead of saying what part of me wants, I say the only thing that matters, because I am not here for me. I am here for him. “Always,” I tell my father, who sighs in relief.

We sit then, just for a bit longer, with what time we have left. As if our words were what it was waiting for, the sun begins to move slowly across the sky, the day pushing toward night. It’s subtle at first, but the river begins to move more rapidly, the waves growing bigger, the water level rising. I feel my father start to shake again, and instead of allowing him to comfort me, I shrug his arm off my shoulders and wrap my arms around him. He sighs and leans his head down against mine as we watch the river rise.

“I’m tired, Benji,” he says. “Don’t know how I got so tired.”

“I know,” I reply, kissing his forehead. “It’s okay, though. Just a little longer. You only have to go a little longer.”

“The water is moving so fast,” he murmurs.

“You’re stronger than it is,” I say, gathering my courage for a final time. We have to go.

“I’ll miss you,” he whispers, and it’s like I’m six. It’s like I’m six years old and trying to run away but knowing I will always come home because he is my home. “Every day we’re apart, I’ll miss you until we’re together again.”

“Because you’re my daddy?”

“Because I’m your daddy,” he says faintly, smiling at the memory.

“You must love me, huh?”

“Oh yes. Very much.”

“Why?”

The river rises and begins to roar.

“Because you’re everything. Benji, I’m scared. I’m so scared.”

“I know. But I’ll be with you. I promise.”

“Even here at the end?”

“Even here at the end.”

And because if I don’t do it now I never will, I stand, pulling my father up with me, his arm around my shoulder, lifting and holding his weight against me. He moans quietly, and I choke back the sob that threatens to rise. He leans against me as the sun disappears behind the mountains and twilight begins to fall.

The first step’s the hardest, as it always is. The first step is filled with doubt and trepidation. The first step makes you want to stop and reassess, to make sure you’re going about this the right way, doing the right thing. The first step is where choices are met with determination, because every step after will be easier.

And so I take it. I take that first step for my father. For myself. That first foot forward is followed by the other, and my father has no choice but to follow

me or be left behind. For a moment, I think he won’t follow, but he does. Of course he does. Big Eddie is strong and brave. He’s the biggest man in all the world. He is the smartest, the funniest, the greatest man alive. He’s the reason the sun shines in the sky, the reason the stars come out at night. He is the greatest man in the world because he is my father, and I can see him no other way. So of course he steps forward. Of course he moves along with me, beside me for that first step and the ones that follow.

We reach the riverbank and I’m sure we’ll hesitate. I’m sure we’ll pause to make sure we’re doing the right thing. But even as the thought forms in my head, my father steps down and into the river, the swift water rising to his knees.

I follow him in.

“Benji,” he gasps. “You can’t….”

Tags: T.J. Klune Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net