25
Summer
Iwake with the sun as the radiant beams spill over me. When I open my eyes, the person I’m looking at is the one I never expected to see.
Eric’s sitting on the window bay with his head resting on the wall and his gaze on the waking city.
The moment I stir though, he looks at me, and he looks like he hasn’t slept.
I want to ask him what he’s doing in here but I decide against that since this is his home and he can be wherever he wants to be.
It’s me who’s the guest and I’m only borrowing this room.
He straightens up when his eyes dart from me to my journal lying on the bed next to me.
When his gaze settles on me again, I wonder if he was in here long enough to look inside it. I meant to put it back in my bags but I fell asleep. I cried myself to sleep. The weight of grief got to me and I had to cry.
Then I found myself looking through the whole journal and venturing to the pages that shouldn’t be there. Years ago I tainted my journal with clippings of Ted and the façade he is because it felt like my safe place; the only place I could bare my soul.
“Morning,” Eric says.
“Hi.”
I don’t know what’s going on or why he’s here when he made it clear yesterday that he wasn’t going to be around. I’ve been thrown away enough times to take a hint so I filled in the blanks.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Maybe he found Robert. That could be why he’s here. My stomach clenches at the anticipation.
“Nothing. I was just checking on you.”
“I didn’t know when you came in. I was sleeping.”
“It was early so I expected that.”
“Did you sleep in here?” I give him a narrowed look.
He smirks. “No I didn’t sleep, but I was here.”
“Did you want me for something?” Because him being here makes no sense.
“I’m going to take you to see your father.”
As we stare at each other, I’m not sure what to say. I won’t pretend I don’t feel some relief for hearing he’s going with me, the same as I won’t pretend I know I shouldn’t need him. I’ve spent years strengthening myself so I wouldn’t need anyone. He can’t just walk into my life and change my rules, but he has.
I can also accept when I’m not strong enough to push back. Today I’m not and I fear going to see my father. The time I’ve taken to get myself ready for today hasn’t helped. I’m just as nervous as I was on day one.
“How comes?”
His eyes darken to that stormy, turbulent blue and he lifts his chin.
“I just felt you needed me. Do you?”
I have that feeling again. As if I’m talking to two different people and this is the softer version of him. I haven’t met this version though and right now he offers a comfort I can’t resist. So I decide to tell the truth.
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m here. I’ll make you breakfast, then we’ll go. I’ve already messaged your father and told him we’ll be there early.”