Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“You know,” I say as I drop my hand. “I don’t even know the details of what you did that got me taken away from you.”
My father’s face goes pale, his expression pained. “Drugs, Dane. As simple as that. Coke, heroine. Whatever I could get my hands on. I started dealing so I could have access and the money to buy them. You don’t remember that?”
I shake my head. “Not really. I remember being left at the neighbors for several days, and then someone just came, picked me up, and took me away.”
“I got arrested,” he says as his eyes hold locked to mine. “Did eighteen months. Got out and went right back to dealing. Got arrested again, did two years. Made some great contacts in that prison stint, and when I got out, went to work for those people dealing. Third time I got arrested, I went away for seven.”
“And then you didn’t go back to dealing after that?” I ask skeptically.
“Met a woman soon after I got out. Angela. She changed my life. Saved me, I guess you could say. I stayed clean, got a good job, and when I felt I was stable enough, I married her.”
“You’re married?”
A look of exquisite pain passes over my father’s face. “She died about eight months ago. Liver cancer.”
My first thoughts go to Avril, and the thought of her dying by some consuming disease makes me sick to my stomach. “I’m sorry,” I manage to tell him.
He coughs and mutters, “She was an angel. I’ll never go back to my old ways because of her. She’s the one who encouraged me to reach out to you at Berkley.”
“You didn’t think it was a little too late by then?” I ask gruffly, anger starting to rise up within me. His whole life got turned around but mine didn’t.
“I had to try,” he says in a low voice. “And it was stupid. I should have known you couldn’t forgive me.”
“I can’t,” I say stubbornly. “You abandoned your son. That first time out of prison, you went right back to it and never once thought about coming for me.”
“I did,” he says with vehemence. “I did come for you. But I was told the process to get you back was going to take time and money and would be an uphill battle. It was just… easy to slip back into the old lifestyle to make the money, but with that came the using again.”
“Don’t blame the drugs,” I snap.
He doesn’t get exactly angry, but his eyes do narrow on me. “Do you understand addiction? Ever known anyone addicted to drugs or alcohol or gambling?”
I shake my head. Didn’t know a single soul.
“Well, don’t judge,” he says quietly. “Because addiction is a disease, and it’s hard to fight. I was weak and couldn’t fight it for a very long time. By the time I beat it, it was clearly too late, but I never gave up hope that one day we would be reunited. That you could forgive me.”
I let out a deep breath, taking in his words. Deep down, I know they’re mostly true. I know that much of my anger is that of a little boy who stopped having Christmases.
“I know you’ve got to be so angry with me,” my father starts to say.
I spin back on him with an angry retort on my lips, but the look on his face causes it to evaporate. He looks beyond repentant. For the first time, I see him as human.
With a sigh, I rub my hands over my face. When I look back to him, I admit, “Yes, I’m angry with you. But I’m angry with myself because as much as I have loathed you throughout my life, I turned out just like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I wasn’t there for the person who needed me the most. I let my own weaknesses and fears prevent me from being the best possible version of me that I could be.”
“A woman?” he guesses.
“The woman,” I confirm. “I thought you ruined my life, but if I’m honest with myself, once I reached adulthood, I had a fucking fantastic life. Any downfall here recently is squarely on my shoulders, not yours.”
“You didn’t turn out just like me,” my dad says. I blink at him in surprise, because pretty sure that’s why Avril’s in Paris right now. “It took me years to have the strength to correct my mistakes. And they’re still not corrected. But it seems like it’s not taking you that long to figure it out.”
“Took long enough,” I mutter. It’s been a week since she left, but it feels like an eternity.
“You came here to confront me, work out your anger, and have an epiphany about yourself,” my dad surmises. “I hope you achieved that. I hope you have the courage now to go after your girl.”