Life In Reverse(68)

I lie awake until the stars disappear and the sky morphs into a black canvas painted in moonlight. The clock beside Ember’s bed reads 2:30am. Not wanting to collide with her mother, I sneak out from beside her and tug on my clothes. As I put on my sneakers, I watch her face blanketed in sleep. This girl—she’s changed me—and I’ll never be the same. That alone makes me smile.

Placing one knee on the bed, I lean close to drop a gentle kiss against her hair. “I love you, Mickey,” I whisper, leaving something for her then quietly slipping out the door and into the night.

Cool air brushes across my skin, a peaceful hush settles over the neighborhood. My heart is a complete f*cking contradiction, racing to an insane beat inside my chest. Funny how life can be so unexpected, how it manages to put things in your path that forces you to open your eyes.

As I climb the stairs two at a time, a high unlike anything I’ve ever felt courses through my veins. I can still smell Ember on my clothes, taste her skin on my lips, feel her body moving beneath me. She takes my breath away, and yet, I can finally breathe. For the first time in so damn long, life stirs inside of me, whipping around like a fierce tornado.

A strange noise catches my attention. I continue up the stairs, the sound growing louder the closer my feet get to the landing. I laugh to myself when I realize Julian has a girl over and tiptoe past his room. But I stop short hearing it again—coming from behind my father’s closed door. I can identify the sound but it doesn’t make sense. Static clouds my thoughts as my legs propel me closer. I should walk away. Pretend I didn’t hear anything. But I can’t leave it alone. I refuse to leave it alone.

My gut twists as my fingers tighten around the knob and squeeze, slowly cracking the door open. The sight of my father’s body moving over a woman who sure as f*ck isn’t my mother makes blood roar in my ears and I lose my shit. “Jesus Christ,” I bite out, startled by the f*cking display in front of me. The muscle in my jaw throbs and I can’t catch my breath. I turn to bolt down the stairs, my head a whirl of confusion. Legs that nearly seize up somehow manage to carry me to the door. My hands shaking, it takes me three tries before the lock clicks and I stumble onto the front lawn, cursing my father to hell and knowing I need to get the f*ck out of here. I don’t get very far though. I’m inches from my car when his voice calls out to me.

“Vance, wait.”

I freeze, but don’t turn around. My hands are fisted at my sides, anger coming to a rapid boil. I’m itching to unleash its wrath. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” I hiss through gritted teeth, still refusing to look at the man who disgusts me now. The man I used to admire.

“Good,” he counters. “Because I’m going to do all the talking and you’re going to listen. Turn around, son.” That word sounds vile in my ears. At this moment I wish I were anyone else’s son but his. Still, I spin around to face him, his commanding tone leaving me no other choice. “Let me explain,” he continues, standing there in a pair of pants and no shirt. He makes me sick.

“I think what I saw was pretty self-explanatory,” I growl. “You’re the one who told me about the birds and the bees.” Then a thought occurs to me. “What was that earlier anyway?” I snap. “That sad, desperate man with the bottle. Was that all an act? Because from what I can see, it sure as hell was.”

“Things are not as they appear, Vance.”

“Obviously.”

He lets out an uneven breath, hands rigid on his hips. “Do you want to know where I go every Friday night?”

My eyes squeeze shut and I bite my cheek. “I don’t want to hear this.”

“I go to see your mother,” he admits, and my eyes pop open as I glare at him in the darkness.

“Do you want a medal for that?” I snarl, jamming my hands in my pockets. He starts to talk but his words are muffled by the horrific moans that filtered from his room. By his naked form hovering over someone else.

“I bring her a pad and some paints,” he adds to whatever I missed. “And I hold my hand over her shaky one, hoping maybe she’ll remember something. When we’re done, she always tells me it looks like an ugly doodle. But you know what I see?” He pauses, the strain in his tone softening. “I see beauty. Because when she looks up, laughing at herself… I stare into her eyes to find the girl I took on our first date to a painting class, because I knew how much she loved it.” He steps toward me and I back away. “I see the only woman I’ve ever loved. The one that I know,” he comes even closer, raw emotion in his voice, “is never coming back to me.”

An anguished breath rattles the air between us and my fury wanes. “She may be your mother, Vance. But that’s my wife in there. And I miss her. And… I’ve been so… lonely. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman, and I’m sorry that this hurts you, son. But I won’t apologize for being lonely. For needing someone. And if the roles were reversed, I wouldn’t want your mother to be lonely either.”

His words provoke the crazy in my chest. “But that’s the thing, Dad. Isn’t it? She’s all alone. Without her memory, she has nothing. She has no one.”

Thick silence stretches between us until he breaks it. “You have to know, Vance. I’ll never love anyone like I love your mother. It’s just not possible.” The lamppost shines against his face and a tear streaks down his cheek. My heart is in my throat, sympathy for him somehow finding its way inside.