The Lone Wolf (Wolf 3) - Page 56

He was the same way.

“She thinks we can reconcile.” My hands rested on the table, and I interlocked my fingers like I was having a meeting I didn’t really care about. “What do you think about that?” I knew I wanted my father to apologize to me, to show some sign of emotion, to be the man I remembered. I wanted my father back, not this grizzled and bitter man. There was still a possibility of putting this behind us, but I couldn’t do all the work. I shouldn’t have to.

He tipped his glass toward himself and peered inside to look at the contents. Even though there was no ice inside, he shook the glass gently before he took a drink. His tanned skin looked like weathered leather from being outside so much. His eyes matched the drink in his hand, and his thin lips were constantly pulled back in a slight grimace. He was such a hateful person, losing all sense of love the moment my mother’s heart stopped beating. “That’s a pretty big hatchet to bury.”

I’d come all the way here on Christmas, and he was still being difficult. Why was I surprised? “As much as I want to kill you, the rest of my body won’t cooperate. My finger won’t squeeze the trigger because it feels so wrong. You once called me a coward because of it…I disagree. The young boy inside me still remembers when you bought me my first fire truck and taught me how to play football. If I kill you now, then there’s no possibility of this relationship getting better…and I don’t want to end that possibility if I don’t have to. You haven’t been my father for a really long time, but the stupid boy inside me still believes you might come back…that a miracle might happen.” I couldn’t look him in the eye as I spoke because it was too humiliating. My masculinity was at stake when I poured my heart out like this, when I showed my vulnerability. The only person who saw me like this was my wife—and that was already difficult enough. “I don’t know how I disappointed you as a son when I’m proud of who I am. I don’t know how losing Mom could make you so indifferent to the two children you made with her. If she were alive now, she would be so disappointed in you. She’s not here anymore, so it’s your job to love her children—and you failed miserably. You should apologize to Lily and me and hope we have the compassion to forgive you.”

His hand released his glass, and his elbows rested on the table. He watched me quietly, his eyes still and his breathing almost unnoticeable. He was difficult to read because his face lacked any expression. We were the same in that regard. I was almost impossible to read…as my wife pointed out.

He hadn’t threatened to kill me yet, so that was a good sign. I didn’t expect him to break down in tears and admit all of his faults, but I did expect something from him…some kind of guilt.

“Losing your mother was difficult. I always assumed we would grow old together. Maybe in your eyes, I’m already ancient, but I expected us to live longer than this. I assumed I would die first so I would never have to feel this kind of pain. She’s been gone for two years, and it still hurts as much as the first day she left.”

The room turned eerily silent as he shared his thoughts with me. There was no apology in his words, more of a justification, but it was still more than he’d ever revealed before. I knew he loved my mother because he wouldn’t have lost his mind if that weren’t the case.

“Time stopped that day. Everything stopped. I forgot who I was. I forgot how to live. All I cared about was killing whoever was responsible for her death…as if that might bring her back to life. Reality was unbearable, so I focused on my goals with precision. As a result…I forgot everything else. That includes you and Lily.”

That was more than I’d expected him to say, even though it wasn’t an apology. “I took a bullet for you, and you screamed at me.”

He looked away, his eyes focusing on one of the paintings. “Because that bullet would have killed me…and I wanted to die.”

My eyes dropped for a moment, saddened to hear how depressed my father was.

“Living without her is unbearable. I wish I’d died that day instead of her. I’d gladly take her place in a heartbeat. She’s much stronger than I am, so she would have survived my passing…”

As a married man, I’d begun to look at life differently. I was a brand-new newlywed because I only recently started to take my marriage seriously, and I already couldn’t imagine my life without her. I’d lost her once, and it was a difficult pill to swallow. I worked my ass off to get her back because bachelorhood was mundane and lonely. Now that I had her back, I never wanted to let her go… But someday we would part. I would either lose her or she would lose me. It was a terrifying thought.

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