Desperately Seeking Epic(52)

“Oh, baby,” I whisper, swallowing past the lump in my throat.

Marcus is behind her and he gently pulls her arm, trying to lead her away. “Come on, Neena.”

Neena weakly jerks her arm away and steps into the kitchen. “What would more time mean if I’m too tired and sick to live?” she asks through trembling lips. “They said my heart and kidneys would suffer. And chemo, Dad, it’s awful. I would have done it again if they’d said I’d live . . . but I wouldn’t. It would just . . . delay my death. I’m so sick and tired of dying. Can’t you understand that? I’m tired, Daddy.”

My eyes are burning with tears. Clara is holding her fist to her mouth, and she says nothing as her body shakes. She’s trying to contain herself. But Neena isn’t done with me yet.

“She should’ve told you about me.” Then she looks at Clara. “You could’ve tried harder, Mom. I needed my dad.” Clara eyes well up more and she nods in confirmation.

“I could have,” she manages, her gaze meeting mine.

But then Neena looks to me and my heart stills. She’s disappointed. My own eyes are staring back at me with offense. “You can be mad at her for not finding you sooner. But, Paul . . .”

I stop breathing. She called me Paul. Not Dad. Not Daddy. “Do not ever yell at her again about what is happening to me. It’s not her fault I’m sick.” Tears are steadily falling down her face and I want crawl into a deep black hole. I did this. I’m such an *. I pull on my hair some more. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“She hasn’t lived because she’s been trying to save my life. She’s done everything for me. Please . . . don’t yell at her.” Then she goes to Clara and hugs her. These two ladies that I love more than anything in the world are crying and hugging, because of me . . . well, I am officially the biggest piece of shit in the world.

“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice husky. “I need . . . I need to get some air.” Marcus calls after me, but I don’t look back. I’m out the back door in a flash. As soon as the night air hits my heated face, I gulp deep breaths. What the f*ck just happened in there? Am I insane?

“Well that was fun,” Marcus mumbles from beside me. I didn’t even hear him follow me.

“Shut up, Marcus,” I groan.

He shifts beside me. He has no idea what to say. No friend likes telling another friend that they’re an idiot. Normally he’d come out with it anyway, but I guess with the subject matter being a delicate one, he’s holding back. His voice lowers. “You okay?”

“Other than making my sick kid cry on what was otherwise a perfect night? Yeah, I’m okay. Just f*cking peachy.”

He pats the lower part of my back because that’s as high as he can reach. “Okay. You had a moment. We all do. Now it’s done. It’s out of your system.”

“I feel horrible for what just happened in there. I just feel so . . . gypped. It’s not fair.”

Marcus snorts. “I know you’re hurting, brother. I’m sure you feel gypped. You feel slighted. You feel like you were denied something you should have had.”

“Exactly,” I exclaim loudly.

“I’m sure Neena can relate.”

And there it is. Like a truck to the face. The only one who should get to act like a giant jerk because they feel robbed is Neena. Because she is getting robbed; she’s getting deprived of life, of time. I nod a few times, letting Marcus know I’ve heard him loud and clear. It was exactly what I needed to hear; a hard punch of reality to the nuts.

“So let’s go do the dishes since you’ve made all the ladies in the house cry tonight. Even Mei-ling has joined in.”

“When I f*ck up, I go all out, don’t I?” I jest even though the humor isn’t there.

“We all have our gifts, my friend.”



Clara and Neena never come back down, even when Marcus and Mei-ling leave. Marcus and I had taken down all the pictures and lanterns, cleaned the kitchen, and put away the leftovers. Now the house is silent. As I finish climbing the stairs, I see Clara is in her room, lying on her bed. Her eyes are open as she stares ahead, lost in thought. I gently tap my knuckle on the door and her head pops up.

“May I come in?”

“Yeah,” she says as she clears her throat. “Shut the door behind you. I don’t want to wake Neena.” I do as she says and move so I’m standing in front of her where she’s now sitting on the bed.

“How’s Neena?”

She inhales and lets it out slowly. “She’s okay. She just hated seeing us fight. She’s asleep.”

Her red and swollen eyes meet mine and my chest aches so f*cking bad. I drop to my knees and grab her hips, pulling her to me. Her hands find my shoulders and hold me so I can’t pull her closer.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“I’m getting on my knees and begging you to forgive me for being a giant *.”

She snorts.

“Not just tonight. But thirteen years ago. When I left.”

Her mouth tightens as she looks down at me. “I’m sorry, Clara. I love you. I loved you then. I love you now. I love Neena. And all I want, more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life, is to love you both and be with both of you. I know you’ve fought for her—that you’re still fighting for her. I know you’ve done everything you can. Please forgive me.”