Page 44 of Tough Love
Slayed.“Sure.” I frown, searching for the words to convey how I feel without starting an argument. “You know why I kept that space though, right?”
“You were wounded.”
“I was let down,” I clarify. “It’s not that I haven’twantedto reach out, it’s just that every time I thought about doing it, I never knew how to start the conversation. The things I wanted to say weren’t easy topics, and to be honest, until that stuff is resolved I’ve got no interest in small talk.”
Dad blinks a couple of times, staring at me without a trace of readable emotion on his face. Have I made him mad? Disappointed him?
“I’m going to take a walk,” I say. “Clear my head, I think.”
He reaches out as I go to walk past him. “Mimi, love.”
I turn my head and look up at him, at the way his brow pinches and the raw regret in the curve of his mouth.
“Never feel ashamed for how you’ve coped these past years.” He pinches his nose, before holding my gaze. “We all made mistakes, but the only people who need to feel bad about that now are your mother and I, okay?”
“Okay.” I lean in and give him a quick hug. “Love you, Dad.”
“Love you too. Now go, get some fresh air.”
I scoot upstairs and throw on a light sweater, and then retrieve my phone and wallet. Not in the mood to carry anything bulky, I slip one in each pocket of my jeans and then head downstairs.
Dad’s reclined on the armchair with Briar jammed in at his side, a Pixar movie in the opening sequence on the television. He gives me a smile over Briar’s head, encouraging me to take the time for myself.
I still feel bad, considering I took most of yesterday off for it all. But I guess in a way this is my parents’ way of doing what they can while they’re still here and not thousands of kilometres away.
I slip my feet into my shoes and then head out the front door into the late afternoon light. It’ll be dark within the hour, which means the bedtime routine for Briar will start. Given how he was today I’m not counting on it being an easy one. The only thing that settled him last night was having me lying beside him in his narrow bed. I still have the kink in my spine from the awkward position I had to be in to save from rolling off. But I wouldn’t have it any other way, at least not for him.
The comfort was what Briar needed and who am I to deny such a simple request?
The cool air tickles my bare neck as I hunker down and head toward the corner shop. I slip my phone out and flick through the numbers while I walk. I haven’t spoken to Jess in a few days, and she messaged this morning asking how things were.
“Hey, hon,” she greets after the third ring. “You okay?”
“Considering,” I say with a smile. “How are your lunch breaks this week without me?”
“Boring as hell,” she groans.
I chuckle. “You need to try and make friends with your colleagues, dude.”
“You’ve met them,” she says dryly. “We havenothingin common.”
“Come on,” I tease. “Matt in conveyancing isn’t that bad is he?”
She snorts. “He left his empty takeaway coffee sitting on the copier the other day, and when somebody called him out on it, he not only moved it a foot to the supply shelves, but used a piece of paper to dab up the ring and left it next to the cup.”
I laugh, shaking my head as I walk.
“What about you?” Jess asks. “How are your parents? Briar?”
“Eh,” I grunt. “Doing the best we can, I guess. Briar’s struggling at the moment. Mum and Dad are stoic about it all, but I suspect they’re just holding it in until they get home.”
“It really sucks, huh.”
“Mostly for Briar, yeah.”
“And you?” she coaxes. “You never said how you’re doing.”
I sigh, slowing my pace. “Confused, dude.”