If I hide under the bed will it all go away?
I wish I had that option because anything is better than this.
The sound of the car pulling up outside makes my heart thump and my nerves tingle. My father looks at me and the ruin in his eyes will live with me forever. It’s all there in that look. Pain, guilt, despair, love… I could go on.
His voice breaks. “I’m sorry.”
“It will be ok.”
At some point in this, the child in me grew up and our roles reversed. He needs me to make it better because he is drowning, choking and dying inside.
I smile bravely through my tears as the sound of two car doors slamming bring reality to our door.
This is a pivotal point in both our lives, and even breathing is difficult. I want to run; I want to hide and I want to make everything better—but I can’t. This is it, how it must be—for now, anyway.
“I’ll sort it, you must believe that.”
“Don’t.” My voice is soft and disguises how I really feel. I’m angry and hurt and so worried I can’t think straight. There is so much to say, but only one thing matters.
“I love you.”
He turns sharply and the look in his eyes strips me bare. I need to hold it together and so smile bravely through my tears, “I’ll be ok.”
The footsteps are close to our door, they are like a drumbeat counting down the last moments of a life that was never perfect but normal to me—to us.
Father and daughter, getting by together. Not anymore, not until things change, so with a heavy heart, I walk towards the only person I love and smile through my tears. “I love you dad, please stay safe.”
His arms wrap around me and hold me close, and I almost stop breathing. A thousand words I should say spin around my mind, but none of them gets a voice. They have no power anyway because this is how it is and as my father crushes me to him, I feel his emotion tearing at my soul. If this is the last time I hold my father, I want it to count. I want to remember how I feel at this moment because that will get me through. I need to be strong and I need to be brave because we will get through this and blink in the sunlight on the other side. Life will carry on and we will leave this behind us and never speak of it again.
The loud knock on the door causes my heart to race and for a fraction of a second, time stands still. My father’s arms tighten around me and I wonder what’s going through his mind right now.
Then he breaks away and says almost gruffly, “I’m sorry, Lola.”
He breaks away and only the dull sound of his boot on the bare floor gives life to a room where two hearts stopped beating one hour ago. Is it possible to live when your heart ceased working? Apparently, it is because we are proof of that. Sixty minutes ago, our lives changed and I wasn’t prepared for how much, however as his hand finds the door handle, I know I must dig deep because what happens next determines our future.