Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
So why was I about to cry? I should have been seething with anger. I should have ripped this cursed thing in half and thrown it down the trash compactor.
And yet, the anger that had taken residence in my chest wasn’t strong enough to overcome the profound sadness I felt reading my father’s words, especially since we were past any point of repairing our relationship.
Oliver’s hand squeezed. His support was an unshakeable foundation. I looked into his bright eyes and found the strength I needed to keep reading. I read the letter out loud, knowing it would be one of the few ways I could actually get the words to sink in.
“Becks, I’m so sorry this is how I’m leaving you. I’m dictating this letter as I lie here in a hospital bed, too weak to even feed myself. I was only able to write your name on the envelope before I had to stop. I wanted to speak to you in person. To apologize in person. To hug my son again. But life had other plans.”
I took a pause, breathing air into my lungs, feeling as if I was about to float off the surface of this planet. Oliver, once again, grounded me with his presence.
I continued. “I’ve been diagnosed with stage four brain cancer, Becks. I would have called and asked you to fly here, but I’m scared you wouldn’t. I’m scared I’d lose all chance of explaining myself to you. Of apologizing. Because I need to apologize, Becks. I made a mistake. I pushed you away out of fear. My own son. A piece of me in this world, and I treated you like a piece of gum. I can never take that back. I’m so sorry.”
My father’s words took a deep slice out of my heart. I had to pause, this one longer than the last. Oliver let me sit in silence but always kept his hand on my leg, letting me know he was there. This was as difficult as I thought it would be.
Why couldn’t we have talked about this when you were alive?
Why?
After another deep breath, I continued, having to wipe at my eyes so that I could see the scratchy letters that were trying to swim away from me.
“I’m sorry because I’m gay myself, and that fear of what lay inside me, of the lies I was telling daily, that was what caused me to fight.”
I had to stand up. Oliver grabbed the letter, which had fallen from my hand.
“Bloody hell.”
“Did he… did your dad say he was gay?”
“Bloody fuckin’ hell.”
I felt nauseous. I walked a small circle around my backyard. He must have been feeling so much self-inflicted pain. And he inflicted so much pain on me. On my mother. On our entire family. And he waited until now to tell me? My fists balled up. My breaths were short, ragged.
“Beck, sit, come and talk.”
I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to sit. I didn’t want to keep reading. What I wanted was to travel back in time and smack my father over the head for being such an idiot. If he had just come out sooner, if he had just stopped the lies, if he had just—
No. There was no use going down that path. He had made his choices, and we all had to live with them.
I sat back down, my breaths still coming in quick, oxygen slamming into my lungs. Oliver’s hand rested on mine. He held it, squeezed. I looked into his eyes and found a well of strength. I drank it in. My father’s story may have been written and closed, but mine was still in the making, and this was only a tiny piece.
“All right, here.” I handed him the letter. “You read the rest.”
“What? No, Beck, I think—”
“I want you to read it.”
Oliver didn’t protest. He nodded and turned his gaze down to the last lines of the note. “Please forgive me,” he said, voice steady even though the words were enough to shake me down to my core. “Forgive the pain I’ve caused. I wish you could meet the man I met, the one I fell in love with. Arnold Tillman. Ten years we’ve been together. He died last week. Doctors say pneumonia, but I think it was a broken heart from my diagnosis.” Oliver’s voice cracked, no longer steady. I reached for the letter, but he continued after clearing his throat. “I’m giving this letter to his sister, Luna. I’d give it to your mother, but we all know she loses everything. I hope you read this, son, and I hope you know that I love you and will forever love you, Becks.” Oliver’s voice cracked like a pane of glass breaking. He wiped at his cheek before reading the final line. “Love you with all my heart. Your Dad.”