by R. J. Lewis
“I don’t have to go,” I told him confidently. “I’ll stay right here with her.”
His eyes hardened. “You’re going to stay? Here?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re going to throw it all away, you mean?”
“There’s a college here –”
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Aston. I’m not as bright as you, but I’m certainly not as clueless either. The college here is shit. You have a scholarship because you are destined for greater things. You could be the next goddamn Einstein, and you want to throw it all away to be here? I won’t allow it.”
“Then I’ll take her with me,” I retorted.
“You’d take high school off her?”
“She’ll go to one in the city.”
Dad exhaled, shaking his head. “Think about what you’re saying, Aston. What is she going to do over there with you? You know how busy you’re going to be. How are you going to find the time to be with her? You have to sacrifice one thing for another. Your brain dominates you. If you stayed here, you’d go stale. If you left with her, you’d neglect her.”
“I love her, Dad,” I told him adamantly. “With or without your approval, we’re going to be together. Even if we have to run away, we’ll be together.”
“And you’re not understanding me, son. This is hard for me to hear. I’m goddamn shocked by it, but I don’t disapprove. I just know what I’m talking about. Your lives are completely different. Elise is…not as mature as you. She’s young in the head still and…oh, god, she is dramatic. You know what I’m talking about too. She’s all about fun in the moment. All about dancing and socializing. If you do something she disagrees with, she’s all drama and angst. She’s not ready to be on her own. She’s not even ready to know what she wants. She has no career in mind. She has no goals. She reacts emotionally over everything. Throwing a serious relationship into the mix? That’s like playing with fire.”
“What do you mean?”
“Can you imagine the devastation that would happen to our family if you and Elise broke up?”
“We won’t.”
“You don’t know that. She is not at your level. She’s too young.”
“We’re a year apart, Dad.”
“You are years ahead, Aston.”
I leaned back and crossed my arms. I was angry. “So what would you have me do?” I asked him angrily, jaw clenched.
“Wait for her to grow. Give her time.”
I didn’t respond. I wanted her. I wanted her so fucking badly, I ached to the bone. But at the same time, I hated how much sense he made. These next five years were going to be brutal. I had so much to learn, so many goals to reach. And the way I was when I poured myself in my work, the world faded into the background.
Elise would fade along with it.
Would she hate me if I neglected her? Should we wait until I was done and was able to give her my love and attention? Would she even wait that long?
“Your words are killing me, Dad,” I whispered to him. “This is misery for me.”
He went still, looking down at the table for a few moments. When he looked back at me, his eyes were rimmed red. “Aston, you’re a son to me. I brought you into our lives because I couldn’t live a day not knowing if you were going to be thrown into another hell. I had to have you. I had to protect you, and you blossomed with us. The happiest day of my life was when you turned to me and said, ‘can I call you my dad?’ Do you remember that? I was so proud. I would never want to deprive you of happiness. Can’t you see that’s what I’m trying to do?”
“By keeping me away from her, you think I’ll be happy?”
“By having her, do you think she’ll stay?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? You wouldn’t rather wait until she has her own life sorted and then give it a real go?”
I ran a hand through my hair. My mind raced with solutions. Numbers…numbers couldn’t help me out, and logic…logic was working against me right now.
I shoved the plate forward. “This is bullshit,” I hissed, standing up.
I stormed out of the restaurant. This wasn’t how the day was supposed to go! He was meant to accept us and that was it. We were supposed to go home, break it to Mom, and get her acceptance, and then…
Then what?
I slammed open the entrance door and rested my head against the brick wall. I shut my eyes and tried to reason. She loved me. We wanted to be together. Why did it have to get complicated?
I heard the door open again and footsteps approached me.
“Aston,” he said. “Let’s go back in there and sort this out.”
“I don’t want to sort it out.”
“Aston, stop –”
“You don’t want us together. I wish you’d just say it!” I shouted.
“I don’t want you together.” His words were firm and resolute. They shocked me to the core.
I pushed off the wall and turned to him. “You want us unhappy.”
“I want you both to avoid pain. To wait, goddammit. Just…wait until your life is less hectic, until she’s less dramatic. Right now, all I see is obsession and no logic.”
“You’re wrong!”
“Maybe I am. Let’s keep talking it through first.”
“You don’t think I’m good enough for her. Is that it?” I was losing my shit, going hysterical now as all my insecurities raced to the surface. “You think I’m like my father. You think I’ll hurt her because there’s some monster inside of me too!”
“No!” he retorted fiercely. “You are nothing like him!”
“You’re a liar.”
“I would never lie about that.”
“You pity me every fucking day! I see it in your eyes. It’s condescending. You make me feel inferior when you look at me that way. You won’t move on from that part of my life.”
“Because it reminds me to be human,” he argued, his voice cracking. “To cherish you and your sister –”
“Don’t call her that anymore! She’s not my sister.”
“I’m not trying to upset you, Aston.”
“Then let me have her!” Angry tears fell from my eyes. “I want her. We want each other! We waited years for this moment. I tried so hard to push her away, but I couldn’t. Either she leaves with me, or I stay with her.”
He didn’t respond. He just looked at me, his eyes red and pained. He honestly didn’t want me with her. I couldn’t believe it. I felt unworthy, rejected, pushed aside. I knew those things weren’t entirely true, but in that moment, I was raw with pain and determined to see things in a way that mirrored my insecurities.
I shook my head and slid down the wall. Who was he to tell me no? He didn’t understand us. No, a voice whispered in my head, he understands you perfectly, and he’s right.
I was too angry to speak to him, and he continued to linger next to me, determined not to leave me alone. It felt like an hour had passed in that position. I watched people come and go, wishing I’d still been part of that foster system. I could have met Elise on a different path in life. Imagine how simple things would have been then?
I was drowning in my fucking misery when I heard a commotion. I raised my head and stared on as a man slammed the door shut to a car in the parking lot and began screaming at his wife. He pointed to the backseat, mouthing off at a little boy who was crying.
I stood up, and Dad was watching the scene unfold too.
“He spills fucking ketchup in my car, the little thieving shit!” the man screeched.
The woman was terrified of him, but she continued holding her ground, protecting her boy from this man. This man who was shaking the same way my real father did before he cut us all up.
“Get out of the way!” he told her.
When she wouldn’t, he grabbed something from under his shirt and I tensed when I saw the gun. I took a step forward when Dad grabbed me by the arm. “Don’t,” he told me sternly. “I don’t have my protective gear here, Aston. I’m
off-duty. We cannot intervene when he is armed like that. Let me call the department.”
“He’s going to hurt the kid,” I hissed.
“He won’t, I promise.” Dad pulled out the phone from his pocket and made the call. I stood by and stared on as the man shoved the woman behind and reached for the door.
Images flashed before my eyes.
My real father chasing my mother around the house.
Her screams.
Her pleas.
The way my sisters sobbed for mercy. How quiet I was as I stood back and watched helplessly. Why had I been so quiet? Why didn’t I move? Why didn’t I do something?
You’ve always been weak. Always been a coward.
I snapped and, without knowing it, I rushed to the man with the gun. I heard Dad yell at me to stop, but I didn’t listen. Adrenaline and anger fuelled me, as well as images of green eyes and rage and blood.
I lost it.
16.
Elise
The day he went fishing with Dad was a beautiful one. The sun was bright, the heat not as heavy as it had been in recent weeks. Mom was tackling on overtime at the police station, and I was pacing the floors of our house, hands clasped, and my stomach swirling with knots. This was it. We were doing it. We were going to come out on the other side together, no matter what.
I went to the bathroom that many times. The anxiety was unbearable.
I tried to read a book. Then I flicked through the channels on the television. Then I tried to busy myself by cooking.
Nothing worked. I couldn’t focus when all I could think about was Aston and Dad and whether he had told him by now. I knew it was unlikely, though. Aston said he’d let him know after they’d fished. He wanted it face to face at a table. He already had a restaurant in mind.
I clock-watched and paced. Clock-watched and paced. When I heard the front door open, I nearly threw up as I hesitantly moved to the hallway. My nerves died down when I saw Mom coming through the door, exhausted eyes twinkling when they met mine. “Hey, darling,” she said, setting her purse down on the entrance table. “How are we today?”
I just nodded. “Good.”
She must have sensed my mood was off. She paused and looked me over. I was still in my pj shorts and tank top. My hair hadn’t been combed. I hadn’t a lick of make-up on my face, and I was pretty sure I was paler than usual.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, concerned.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“You look awful.”
“Thanks.”
She ignored my sarcasm. “The boys are still out?”
“Yeah.”
“It’ll just be you and me for dinner, then.”
“I’m not hungry.”
She frowned. “What have you eaten?”
“I’m just not hungry, Mom.”
She watched me carefully as I raced past her and up the stairs, out of view. She was too intuitive, that woman. I’d purposely dodged spending time with her, fearing she would find us out. I wouldn’t need to dodge her any longer, I reminded myself.
The hours passed slowly. The day turned to night. I stared out the window, waiting for the headlights of our truck to come into view. Then I glanced at the time. 8pm.
What the hell was taking them so long? This was a bad sign, wasn’t it? I tried to picture Dad hollering at Aston in the middle of the restaurant over what we’d done, but that wasn’t him. Dad didn’t have it in him to upset Aston. He’d never been given a reason to. Until perhaps now…
I lay in bed, exhausted from all this worrying. I shut my eyes, opting for sleep just to pass the time. I dozed until the house phone rang. Then I opened my eyes and listened to Mom picking up the call. Her voice started off quiet, and then she was screaming.
“Elise!”
My heart lurched in my chest. I jumped out of bed and ran out of the bedroom. She was hollering my name over and over again, and when I got to the bottom of the staircase, she had her keys in her hand. She looked at me, and I felt startled by the panic on her face.
“We have to go,” she anxiously said. “Your father and Aston are in the hospital.”
*
I demanded answers during the car ride, but she didn’t speak a word. She’d already started shutting down, her face blank, her hand tight on the steering wheel as she sped across town to the hospital. It was a ten-minute drive because of all the goddamn red lights. It was the longest ten-minute drive of my life.
My mind raced with questions. Was it a car accident? Was Aston in one piece? It couldn’t be bad. Everything was going to be okay, right? It had to be. Life had only just started coming together for us. It couldn’t throw a dent in it now.
I prayed. I prayed so hard, looking out that window and up at the night sky. Please, let everything be okay. Please.
By the time we turned into the parking lot, my heart was in my throat. Mom jumped out and pulled out change from her pocket. We strode quickly to the entrance of the hospital. I felt so fucking annoyed when she stopped to pay for parking. I didn’t care if our car was towed, goddammit! We needed to go in now! I openly fumed at her as she took her time, her face still void of emotion. She was scared, I realized. She didn’t want to face reality, but we had to.
“Mom,” I said urgently, “we have to go.”
When she wouldn’t move, I took her by the arm and told her we were doing this together. Then I forced her through the ER doors and to the waiting room.
I didn’t realize the level of concern I should have been having until I saw Aston seated there, in the front row, with Adrian by his side in his police uniform.
He had a hand on Aston’s back, patting him. Why was he reassuring him? What was so bad to warrant pats on the back?
As we neared, I felt everything inside of me crumble. Tears sprang to my eyes, a gasp left my throat, and I nearly fell to the ground right there and then.
Aston was covered in blood, and it wasn’t his own.
I felt like the world was spinning. Adrian saw us. He got up and slowly approached us, looking directly at my mother with sympathetic eyes. My gaze locked on Aston. I walked past them, inching nearer, hearing the words, “he tried to stop a fight” and “he got shot” in the same sentence.
I fell on the chair next to Aston, my body turned to him. I grabbed his hand. He was oddly cold. He was never cold. He turned his head to me just barely, and the pain I saw in them pierced me to the bone.
My lips quivered as I whispered, “Aston.”
He just shook his head, unable to tear his gaze away from me. “Everyone I love always leaves me,” he said raggedly, choking back on a sob.
Tears fell from my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. “It’ll be alright.”
He didn’t believe me.
He was right to.
*
Dad was pronounced dead one hour later at 9:17pm. The second the doctor broke it to us was the second my whole world ripped apart before my eyes. It was hot all of a sudden. My heart fluttered and raced, and my brain was working hard to catch up.
Dead.
My father was dead.
How did this happen? Why did this happen? Who let this happen?
He’d been perfectly fine this morning. He’d been smiling, squeezing Aston’s shoulders while he talked about their boring fishing adventures. Then he invited me along, a gesture he knew I wouldn’t take, and he was right. I didn’t take it. Why didn’t I take it? I wished I had.
He’d said good night to me last night, and he’d called me his butterfly. I’d rolled my eyes at the name because I was too old for that shit. Call me a butterfly again, Dad. I’ll do anything to hear it.
Now he was dead.
I’d taken every moment for granted, believing there would always be a never ending supply of “good night, butterfly”.
Aston collapsed to the floor. It was that sudden movement that pulled me out of my stupor. I leaned over him, hugging his back as he broke down. Tears fell from my eyes, but only lightly
. I was in shock, and Mom had distanced herself from us, falling into the chair in a dazed heap, staring at nothing.
It was a messy scene. I was holding on to a broken man as he lay in ruins, trying to keep him together, and my mother was nowhere near us for emotional support. I reached my hand out to her, but she didn’t take it. I felt like Sticky Tack, trying to keep things together but failing miserably as the weight of our loss broke through the links that bound us.
“Mom,” I choked out. “Please.”
She wouldn’t move. She wouldn’t fucking move and I just wanted to mourn! I needed her strength. I needed her arms around mine as I held Aston to me, and she wouldn’t give it to me.
When I saw Adrian wrap his arm around her, I focused back on Aston. I hugged him tight, and leaned my face between his shoulder and neck, whispering in his ear, “I know. I know. It’s okay. I’m here, Aston. I’m here.”
He shook so violently. He’d come apart at the seams, and I was helpless. I couldn’t make him feel better, so I let him weep there, and I bottled my grief to be the strength he needed.
Aston
He shouldn’t have died.
It should have been me.
It was my fault. It was my fault. It was my…
17.
Elise
Life has a funny way of changing in the blink of an eye. It’s so unsteady. One minute love is the answer to everything, and the next you’re hopelessly trying to use it to fix the unfixable.
I felt like I was holding on to something that was already slipping away from my grasp. Aston was distant. We went home that night and he wouldn’t let me near him. Neither would Mom. I went back and forth, from him to her, and they shunned me in their grief.
I swallowed the pain, knowing if I fell apart too we would never go through with the process. I was seventeen and forced to fill out paperwork and arrange a burial service. Adrian helped out a lot, along with the police department who paid us a visit in the following two days. Without them, I don’t think I’d have been able to cope. Their gentleness nearly killed me, but it was also just what I needed to push through.