Lahat ng Kabanata ng My Boyfriend's Dad?: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

LauraI woke up alone.The bed was still warm on his side. The sheets were tangled. The pillow still held the shape of his head. But he was gone.I sat up. Rubbed my eyes. The clock on the nightstand said 8:47.I had slept eleven hours.I never slept eleven hours.Something was wrong.---I found him in the kitchen.Standing at the counter. Staring at his phone. A cup of coffee next to him. Full. Untouched."Damon."He looked up. His eyes were red. Not from crying. From not sleeping."You are up," he said."You are still awake.""Could not sleep.""Obviously."I walked to him. Took the phone from his hands. Put it on the counter."What happened.""Matthew texted."My stomach tightened."What did he say.""He wants to meet Rick."I waited."That is it. That is what he said. He wants to meet Rick. Not me. Just Rick. For now."I looked at his face. The exhaustion. The hope. The fear. All of it sitting right there under the surface."That is good," I said."Is it.""Yes. It is a start.""

LauraThe plane landed at 3:47.Fourteen minutes early. I had never been on a plane that landed early. It felt like a sign. I did not believe in signs. But I took it anyway.Rick was not on the flight. He had left the night before. Said he needed to get ahead of it. Whatever "it" was. I did not ask. I was learning not to ask questions that did not have answers.I walked through the airport. Past the baggage claim. Past the families hugging. Past the drivers holding signs with names I did not recognize.Then I saw him.Damon.Standing by the doors. Hands in his pockets. Black sweater. Grey at the temples. Looking at me like I was the only person in the room.I stopped walking.He did not move.We just looked at each other. Across the terminal. Across the distance. Across everything that had happened in the last year.Then I walked to him.He did not hug me. I did not hug him. We just stood there."Hi," I said."Hi.""You look tired.""You look beautiful.""That is not an answer.""It i

DamonI woke up at 4 AM.Not because I wanted to. Because my body had forgotten how to sleep past dawn. Or maybe it had never known. Maybe I had been lying to myself for forty two years, pretending I was someone who could rest, when really I was someone who just collapsed from exhaustion and called it sleep.Laura was next to me. Her back against my chest. Her hair spread across the pillow. Her hand curled under her chin like a child.She looked peaceful.I envied her.Not because she had an easy life. She did not. Because she had figured out something I had not. How to close her eyes. How to let go. How to trust that the world would still be there when she opened them again.I watched her breathe for a while.Then I got up.---The kitchen was dark.I did not turn on the light. Did not need to. I had walked this path a thousand times. Refrigerator. Sink. Coffee maker. Counter. The geography of a life lived alone.But I was not alone anymore.Laura's mug was in the sink. A blue cerami

LauraI watched them from across the diner.Damon and Matthew. Sitting in a booth by the window. Coffee cups between them. Hands wrapped around the ceramic like it was the only thing keeping them from floating away.They did not know I was there.I had followed Damon. Not because I did not trust him. Because I could not sit in the hotel room one more minute. The walls were closing in. The silence was too loud. I needed to see it. The moment. The proof that something was actually happening.So I walked to the diner. Sat in the back corner. Ordered a coffee I did not drink.And I watched.---They were not talking.That was the first thing I noticed. They were just sitting. Existing in the same space. Breathing the same air.Matthew was staring at his cup. Damon was staring at the window. Every few seconds, one of them would look at the other. Then look away.It was painful to watch.It was beautiful.---The waitress came to my table."Can I get you anything else, hon?""No, thank you.

LauraOne month later.That was how long it took for the dust to settle. Not the dust from Frank's crew. They had finished in two weeks. The house was new again. Walls painted. Floors refinished. The water stain on the ceiling of the master bedroom gone like it had never existed.No, this was different dust. The invisible kind. The kind that hangs in the air after something huge has happened and you are still waiting to see what grows in its place.One month since Seattle.One month since Matthew sat on a bench with Damon and did not walk away.One month since I told Rick about my brother.One month since I said the words out loud for the first time in six years.I was still getting used to the way they felt in my mouth. My brother. He died. I was twelve. The words did not get easier. They just got more familiar. Like a scar you touch without thinking.---The roses were blooming.Not all of them. Twelve red stems. Six had flowered. Four were close. Two were struggling. I checked them