I did my homework, made myself some dinner, and took a shower before I finally crawled into bed and picked up my e-reader. I browsed through my library, hoping something would catch my attention.
About halfway through the book, I managed to lose myself in the storyline. I was so wrapped up in the characters and their struggles that when something banged against my bedroom window, it startled a shriek out of me. I jumped from the bed, my heart falling into my stomach as I darted for the bedroom door, my beloved e-reader long forgotten. Just as I wrenched the door open, a deep, muffled voice called from behind me.
“Christ, Freya! It’s me.” I spun around to see Parker pressing his palms against the window. “Think you can let me in?”
My heart was beating at an unhealthy pace. Parker had just scared the ever-loving hell out of me. I didn’t know if I wanted to let him in or push him off whatever he was standing on.
Finally, my sensibility kicked and I decided against causing bodily harm. “How the hell did you get up here?” I asked as I turned the lock on the window and lifted it open.
“I climbed the arbor,” he huffed as he pulled himself up and through the window, landing on the floor of my bedroom with a dull thud. “You know, your dad should really take a look at that thing. It’s wobbly as hell. Thought I might break my neck there for a second. Not structurally sound at all.”
“That’s because it’s not made for people to climb on, moron!” I scolded. “And what the hell are you doing climbing through my window in the first place? How did you even know this was my room?”
Parker stood and shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, dropping it on my desk before walking over to my bed and plopping down, spreading out like he owned the place. “I used my powers of deductive reasoning and decided to try the only room in the house that had a light on.”
“Ever heard of a door?” I quipped sarcastically, knocking his shoe-clad feet off my nice white comforter before he got dirt all over it.
Parker looked over at me, one brow raised as he answered, “I didn’t think your dad would take too kindly to me ringing the doorbell at ten o’clock at night.”
But as usual, that wasn’t a scenario Parker needed to worry about. “My dad’s not home yet.”
Parker’s dark gaze took me in, holding sympathy as well as something else I couldn’t quite place…understanding, maybe? “Does he leave you alone a lot?”
I lowered my head, studying the ground beneath my feet as if it was fascinating; I couldn’t take the pity in his eyes. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.” That wasn’t completely true. While I was used to it, it wasn’t fine. I hated coming home to the big, empty, emotionless house. I hated being alone. I hated not hearing my mother’s soft laughter echoing through the halls. But most of all, I hated that my father wasn’t there to wrap me in his arms when the memories became too painful and I needed him to lean on. Sometimes, Parker just wasn’t enough. I needed my dad. However, I kept all of my pain to myself. Not only would trying to talk to my dad be pointless, but there was a part of me that worried about what the extra stress of having to take care of me would do to him. He wasn’t coping with the loss of his wife. He walked around every day a shell of his former self. It scared me to think about how my problems might untether that fragile rope holding his sanity together. I didn’t want to burden him anymore than he already was.
Parker’s fingertips grazed my chin as he tilted it up so I would look at him, sending a spark through my body just from his touch. “You shouldn’t have to get used to that, Freya. No one should ever have to get used to being lonely.”
I shook my head, breaking his hold and stepping away. Tears started to well in my eyes and the last thing I wanted to do was cry in front of Parker again. I couldn’t stand the thought of appearing weak in his eyes. I let out a short laugh, hoping it sounded convincing, but doubting it nonetheless.
“Okay, enough with the heavy,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood that seemed to be weighing down the air in my room. “Care to explain why you felt the need to scale my arbor and risk breaking and entering charges?”
He fell back on my bed and propped his hands behind his head, heaving a deep sigh. “Dramatic much? I wasn’t breaking and entering. I just wanted to say ‘hey’ to a friend. I simply decided to take the direct access route as opposed to the front door.”
“Uh-huh,” I replied skeptically as my brow quirked up in amusement. “At ten at night?”
“What can I say? I was bored.” He groaned as he stretched out across my bed. The movement of his arms going over his head caused his t-shirt to ride up just slightly, revealing muscles much more defined than I ever would have imagined. My tongue darted out to try and wet my lips, but my mouth had suddenly grown dry as the desert at the sight of those yummy V-shaped muscles trailing down into the waistband of his jeans.
I cleared my throat uncomfortably, trying to act as though I wasn’t affected as I replied sarcastically, “Well, I’m glad I could be of use.”
“Ah, don’t be like that, gorgeous.” Parker grabbed my hand and yanked me down onto the bed next to him. “You know you like having me here.”
That wasn’t a lie. I really did like having him in my space, not only because he was enjoyable to look at, but also because I welcomed the company. Having someone else there made the house seem a little less quiet, feel a little bit warmer. I liked being around him. He made me smile and laugh; I felt a slight happiness in his presence I hadn’t thought possible after my mom’s death. We lay in bed, side by side, silently staring up at the ceiling fan as the blades moved in slow, lazy circles. I was comfortable in our silence, able to appreciate his company. I’d come to discover that I never felt the need to fill the quiet with meaningless conversation with Parker. We both seemed to be content with just being.
The easy silence was broken as Parker sat up on the bed and reached for the framed picture that had been sitting on my nightstand.
“Is this your mom?” he asked, peering down at the photo.
“Yeah.” I took the frame from his hand, a small smile playing on my lips as I gazed down at her beautiful face. The picture was taken about a year before. Her arm was thrown over my shoulders as she looked down at me, a brilliant smile spread across her lips. My head was thrown back in carefree laughter. I couldn’t remember what she had said to make me laugh so hard, but I did remember being blissfully happy when it was taken.
I used my fingernail to trace over the glass where her smile was, thinking if I concentrated hard enough, I would be able to feel her. But all that was there was the large, gaping hole I couldn’t seem to fill.
“We took a trip down to Florida that summer, just the three of us,” I started. “Mom and Dad met at FSU their sophomore year and to hear them tell it, they fell madly in love with each other at first sight.” The memory of their goofy, love-struck faces as they told me that story brought up a laugh from deep in my chest. “Mom followed him to Chicago for his residency and they liked the city so much they decided to stay, but they made sure to take me to Florida at least once a year. That’s where Mom fell in love with the sunsets. She always said there wasn’t a more beautiful sunset than the ones in Florida. She insisted we take a trip every year so we could ‘follow the sunset’.”
“You look just like her, Freya,” Parker whispered softly, his lips pressed against my shoulder as he studied the picture with me.
“I think that’s why my dad’s always gone.” I sniffled. “Looking at me every day and seeing her is just too hard. So he stopped looking all together. It’s easier for him if he’s not around me.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Parker’s voice broke as he reached over to brush a strand of hair away from my face.
“I miss her,” I whispered as tears welled in my eyes uncontrollably. “I miss her so much, Parker. She was my best friend. I feel like I’m drowning without her.”
Before I was even able to register his movement, I was wrapped in his strong arms and pulled into his lap, surr
ounded by his heat as the tears trickled down my cheeks. “You aren’t drowning, gorgeous. It just feels like that some days.” His fingers slowly trailed from the top of my scalp down my head, soothing me with each tender stroke. “The pain never goes away, Freya, but it becomes manageable. One day, you’ll wake up and realize you can breathe a little easier than the day before. Until then, all you can do is lean on the people closest to you…lean on me. I want you to.”
I pulled my face from his chest and looked up into those deep, all-knowing eyes, wondering if that was going to be the moment he opened up. “Have you lost someone?”
His head jerked with a nod. “Yeah, I have. But we’re not talking about me right now. We’re talking about you.” I understood his reluctance to share that part of himself. I hadn’t wanted to share mine with him at first, either; it took time to build that trust. All I could do was give him space and hope he’d eventually lean on me the same way he was insisting I lean on him.
“Does it ever stop?”
His chest rose and fell against my cheek as he inhaled deeply before blowing it out in a deep sigh. “No, sweetheart. I wish I could tell you it does, but the pain never goes away.”
“H-how do you f-function?” I stuttered.
“One day at a time, Freya. One day at a time. You watch those sunsets and think about everything you had with her. Appreciate every single one. I promise you, it won’t always hurt this bad.”
I let the tears run freely, soaking up all the comfort I could as he held on to me tightly. He was a lifeline in a raging storm. He kept me grounded when I felt like I would just float away. Eventually, the tears pulled me under, lulling me into a deep, dreamless sleep, wrapped in Parker’s arms. When I woke the next morning, alone in my bed, my chest felt just a little bit lighter. I wasn’t surprised he was gone, but I was thankful he’d been there for me the night before. I hadn’t realized just how much I needed him until that time came.
That night, Parker had been my saving grace.
I knew staying with Freya as long as I had was a mistake. But having her soft, warm body in my arms was just too much to resist. I lay in her bed, wrapping her tightly in my embrace and never wanting to let go. It was just too much temptation. Even though I knew I’d suffer the consequences, it was worth every single second to have her open up to me the way she did.
“Where the fuck have you been?” my father hissed as I climbed through my bedroom window shortly after the sun began to rise. As soon as my feet hit the floor, I was frozen in place, unable to meet the hostility in his gaze. I already knew what would happen if he caught me, but that hadn’t meant I didn’t fear him still.
“I asked you a question, boy. Where the fuck have you been!?”
“Nowhere,” I mumbled, refusing to move my eyes off the dark, hardwood floors beneath my feet.
“Nowhere? That’s all you have to say to me? You’ve been gone all fucking night, and you’re going to stand there and tell me you’ve been nowhere, you little shit?”
My heart began beating frantically as his voice continued to rise. I knew what was coming, and no matter how many times I had to experience his rage, I still hadn’t grown used to it. Just as I’d told Freya the night before, the things we experienced because of our parents weren’t things we should ever have to get used to. “I was down on the beach,” I lied. “I couldn’t sleep and wanted to clear my head.” There was no way I was going to admit I’d spent the majority of the night with Freya. The last thing I wanted was to put her on Charles Owens’ radar.
“You needed to clear your head.” He drew out each word slowly, like he was trying to wrap his brain around what I’d just said.
“Yeah.”
“And if something had happened to your mother while you were out clearing your goddamned head?” he shouted. “What then, huh?”
Anger boiled in my blood. I bit down on the inside of my cheek hard to try and keep the fury under control, but even as the taste of blood filled my mouth, I couldn’t keep it tamped down. The words spilled from my mouth before I could stop them.
“Isn’t watching out for her supposed to be your job? You know, seeing as you’re her husband and all. But I guess you were too busy getting your dick wet last night to look after your wife!”
Before I was even able to comprehend his movement, pain sliced through my cheek, causing spots to blur over my vision. The force of his punch was strong, but I somehow managed to stay on my feet. I knew I could hurt him if I decided to fight back, but standing my ground would infuriate him even more. I straightened my back and stared my father down, fighting against the stomach-churning pain to keep steady on my feet. I could feel the warmth of blood dripping down from the cut he had opened on my cheekbone, and I refused to brush it away.
“You little piece of shit,” he seethed as he stepped up to me, his hot breath spreading over my face. “How dare you disrespect me in my own home?” When I didn’t respond, he continued, “You’re eighteen now, Parker. If you don’t straighten up, you’ll be out on the fucking street. I suggest you watch yourself.” I stood motionless as he reached out and wiped a smear of blood off his knuckles onto the front of my t-shirt. “Piss me off again and you’re gone. I don’t give a shit if your mother needs you.” He left without another word, slamming my bedroom door shut behind him.
I waited a few more seconds just to make sure he wasn’t coming back before reaching up and placing my hand on my throbbing cheek. It took everything in me not to crumble to my knees. Instead of breaking like I so desperately wanted to do, I used my hatred for my father to keep myself solid.
I. Would. Not. Break.
I’d woken Monday morning feeling more alive than I had in what seemed like forever. I slept harder and more peacefully that weekend than I had since Mom passed. When I opened my eyes, the early morning sunlight was filtering in through the open curtains of my bedroom window; the same window Parker had crawled through Friday night. A smile spread across my face as I stretched my limbs. I hadn’t seen him at all the rest of the weekend, but I knew he’d be at school, and I was anxious to get there.
I climbed out of the bed and went about my morning, feeling good about the day ahead of me.
“Good morning, honey.” I stumbled to a stop in the kitchen at the sound of my father’s voice. To say I was surprised to see him there would have been an understatement.
“Dad? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
He lowered his head and stared into his coffee cup like there was something fascinating about its contents.
“I was…” He stopped to clear his throat awkwardly. “I was thinking we could have breakfast together before you left for school.”
“Really?” My voice was high-pitched as the shock set in.
I stood there, frozen in place as my father sucked in a deep breath before doing something he hadn’t done in months. He turned and looked at me…right into my eyes, and I felt another tiny piece of myself fall back into place with that one simple act.
“I’ve been a lousy father, Freya...” I opened my mouth to try and argue, to tell him I understood, but his hand came up to stop me. “I know I have, and there’s no excuse for how I’ve been acting. I should have been there for you and I wasn’t. But I want to try and fix that, sweetie. That is, if you’ll let me.”
“Y-yeah,” I stuttered, trying my hardest to hold back my tears. The emotions running through me as my father finally looked at me were overwhelming. “Yeah, Daddy. I want that. I’ve missed you.”
He was off his barstool and wrapping me in a tight embrace before I could take a solid breath. Without hesitation, my arms went around his strong waist as I allowed myself to soak up the comfort he was offering me. It was a comfort I feared I was never going to get back. I squeezed him tightly, never wanting to let go. The familiarity of being in my father’s arms was a balm I’d needed desperately for so long.
“I’ve missed you, too, baby girl,” he choked out. At the sound of the tears
in his voice, my own finally broke free. “I’m so sorry, Freya. I can’t promise I won’t screw up again, but I swear to God, I’ll try my very best. You have my word, honey.”
Taking a deep breath, I pulled in my father’s familiar scent and let it surround me like a blanket before finally leaning back and smiling up at him. “Better late than never. We’ll figure it out as we go.”
His hands came up to form around my cheeks as his gaze darted back and forth between my eyes. “How’d you get so smart?”
“Good genes, I guess.”
“Oh, honey. That was all your mom. I can’t take credit for that. You two always did run circles around me.”
As I looked up into my father’s smiling face, I began to think that maybe things were finally starting to get better.
By the time I got to school later that morning, excitement coursed through my veins at the thought of seeing Parker again. I needed a chance to tell him just how much I appreciated him being there for me a few nights before. And I couldn’t wait to tell him about the breakthrough I had with my father. Things weren’t completely fixed with that one conversation, but it was a starting point and I wanted to share that with Parker.
“Morning, sunshine!” Stella exclaimed loudly as I walked up to my locker and began the process of turning the dial and beating on the door to get it to open.
“God, you really are a sickeningly sweet morning person, aren’t you? I’m not sure if we’ll be able to stay friends.”
“Whatever. You know you love me,” she joked.
We turned to head toward our English class when I noticed Parker walking down the hall in our direction. His head was down, a black hoodie pulled up masking part of his face, but I could still tell it was him. It was the way he walked that made him recognizable, even as he tried to remain discreet.
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