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I was only half asleep when my phone buzzed early Friday morning. Blinking at the bright light, I tried to read the screen. My sleep-deprived mind took a moment to register the name on the screen.
Justin.
“Are you okay?” I asked as soon as I answered, my heart thudding hard as I prepared myself for bad news. Early morning calls like this couldn’t be good and the guys made it a point not to disturb me so early in case I was finally getting sleep.
Justin’s voice was barely audible as he said, “My dad woke up. I’m already at the hospital.”
The tightness in his voice had me out of the bed, trying to find clothes to throw on.
“I’m on my way,” I said.
“Thank you.” He hung up.
I went on autopilot as I got ready and practically ran out of the door. It couldn’t be good if Justin needed me there with him, right?
Fear and worry gripped me hard all the way to the hospital and I almost ran into the hospital room, not sure what to expect exactly. I only stopped because Justin was in the hallway, hunched over in himself. He never looked so small before.
“Justin,” I said softly, moving next to him and resting my hand on his curved back.
He stiffened but remained unmoving for a long time. Then slowly, he uncurled himself, once against standing taller than me.
“Is he okay?” I asked.
Justin pressed his lips tightly together and shook his head, his blue eyes watery with emotions. He drew in a breath and cleared his throat.
“Good enough to wake up. I haven’t gone in to see him yet.”
“Why not?” I asked.
He glanced over at the window with the closed blinds. “He hurt a nurse.”
The first question I wanted to ask was how he had all that energy for a dying man, but I held back. Barely. I understood what was holding him back.
It was what held me back when I visited Lindie.
Justin was trying to brace himself to face a nightmare that could go very wrong very easily. His father wasn’t in the best mood, and he was the type to take that out on others.
I grabbed Justin’s hand. “I’ll be with you.”
“I can’t ask you to go in there.”
“And I can’t leave you without support. I’ll go in. Maybe it’ll make him behave.” Abusers liked privacy. They knew what they were doing was wrong and didn’t want others to know.
Justin snorted. “He’s not in his right mind anymore.”
I pressed my lips together, wanting to tell him his father wouldn’t act out. Justin was right though. If he had hurt a nurse, there was no telling how he’d act or how he thought he was acting. I drew in a breath to steady myself and then squeezed Justin’s hand.
“If you’re going in there, then so am I. I’ll be fine.”
“Nothing about this is fine.”
“Do you want to walk away?” I asked, not judging him at all. If he did, I’d steal him away and make sure he never came to see his father until the man was dead and gone. I’d do that for Justin. All he had to do was tell me that was what he wanted.
For a long time, Justin didn’t say anything, still staring at the closed blinds. I was ready to tug him down the hallway, already coming up with a game plan to make sure he didn’t need to come back here.
Justin sighed. “Let’s go in.”
“Okay.”
I still held Justin’s hand as he led us into the room. There was a sour scent in the air, mixed in with cleaning supplies. Justin’s dad was sitting up, the bed having been lifted so he lay at an incline.
The man was practically a skeleton. All skin and bones. Pallid skin. He looked like a ghost. Horror hit me, but I clamped it down. I wasn’t looking at a monster. Well, I was, but not the grotesque kind of monsters from some kind of horror movie. He was a different kind of horror, one hiding in a human body. A dying body now.
His short hair was thin and wispy. Looked like it could have been black, but it was covered in grey.
“Who the hell is she?” the man rasped out, voice harsh but weak from effort.
“She’s a friend,” Justin cooly replied as he moved around to stand by his father’s side. “How are you feeling?”
“Get out,” he said looking at me. “I’m not some fucking freak show to watch.”
“No,” I said simply, staying near the door, but planting my feet. I hid my shaking hands behind me, curling them into a fist to keep them steady.
“I said get out, I don’t want you here.”
My mouth went dry, and I focused on Justin. “I’m not here for you, so I don’t care. I’m here with Justin.”
“Bitch, get the fuck out of my room!” The pure rage in his voice made my whole body hot and clammy. All my instincts to run rose up. Danger. Right there. Within reach. Rushing blood roared in my ears, playing a symphony of warning and danger.
“Dad!” Justin snapped at him.
The man broke into a coughing fit, giving me enough time to push back the fear. He couldn’t do anything to me. He was a dying man stuck in his bed, too weak to even sit up on his own.
Justin handed him a drink of water from a cup next to the bed. The man drank sloppily, water spilling down his chin and onto his chest, but he finally settled down.
“Get out.” His dull eyes narrowed on me.
“If I leave, so does Justin,” I finally said.
“You can’t take him from me.”
I gritted my teeth, wanting to say so much to this bastard.
“I’ll go with her,” Justin interrupted. He was a bit paler than usual. “If she leaves, I’m leaving with her. She’s here for me.”
“Fine!” His father closed his eyes and leaned back, going silent.
I went to the chair in the corner I had claimed the last time I was here. The chair was uncomfortable, but I’d sit there as long as Justin needed me to, even if my ass turned numb.
The first thirty minutes, it was quiet. Justin just sat there and watched his dad.
Then his dad opened his mouth and I wanted to pulverize him into mushy nothingness.
“This could have all been better,” his dad said, finally looking at his son through tired slitted eyes.
“What do you mean?” Justin asked softly.
I knew exactly where this was going, and I wanted to tell the man to shut up. I bit the inside of my lip to keep silent.
“All this. Our lives. It could have been better. I was working toward better until you fucked it all up.”
Justin remained still and silent, his body braced for his father’s words. Something he was used to. I curled my hands in my lap, glaring hard at his father. But his father never looked at me, pretended I didn’t exist.
And he went into Justin hard. All the words I heard from Lindie, I heard come out of that man’s mouth. The same exact bullshit.
You’re the reason we’re in this situation.
This is all your fault.
If you had never done that.
Ungrateful piece of shit.
I gave you everything.
I swallowed my bile as he shitted on Justin more and more.
“It should have been you! You should have drowned that night. Not her.”
The chair scraped back, slamming against the wall behind me, and finally he was looking at me. I hadn’t even realized I had jumped to my feet. The smirk on his face was enough.
“Let’s go,” I said.
“I’m not done talking to my son. Are you really going to deny a dying man time with his son?”
“I’m going to deny an abusive man his abuse. Dying isn’t an excuse to be an asshole.”
That drew a chuckle out of him.
“That wasn’t meant to be funny,” I practically growled out.
“And yet it is,” he rasped out. “It’s very funny.”
“Funny enough that we’re leaving. I’ve been leaving a lot of decisions to Justin, but in this, we’re leaving. Maybe when you learn how to stop being an asshole while you die, he’ll come back to visit.”
Once again, the man laughed. It was wet, guttural, and seemed to take more effort than it was worth.
I blew out a breath and grabbed Justin’s arm, tugging him until he was standing with me. The man kept laughing as we left the room. Even after I shut the door, he kept going, his voice muffled.
“Justin,” I softly called out, resting my hand on his forearm.
Justin was completely pale, and while he seemed steady enough, it felt like at any moment he was going to break down and cry. I reached out and gently grabbed his hand, not saying anything.
This I knew. This brokenness. This confusion. This what-the-fuck moment. I knew it. Lived it for so long.
He needed to process it. Understand it. Even if it was something that could never be understood.
“He’ll be lucky if he lives for another month,” Justin finally said.
“Doesn’t mean you need to put up with that.”
He kept staring at the ground. “I know. I know. But just another month.”
I released a slow breath and wrapped my arm around him, leaning into him, taking in his warmth, and hopefully sharing mine, because he’d feel cold. Moments like this always felt cold to me, like the living breathing soul inside of me had been sucked out and there was no fire inside to keep me going. I always felt like that until time passed and I was able to rekindle that fire.
We shouldn’t have gone in there. He had been away from it for so long and then in a span of an hour, was tossed back into that world when he should have never gone back. We walked away from the hospital and I finally began feeling like I made a mistake. I told Justin to do what he wanted. Supported him to do what he wanted. I did nothing to stop him.
And he dove back into his hell.
No one should ever have to face their hell.
I should have stopped him.
