“I love you.” It’s not a sigh, but it’s close.
“Tell me you need me.”
“I need you.”
I breathe in as deeply as I can without it killing me. “Okay.” I let go of Ava and point to my head. “Plump my pillow, wife.” I grin. It’s so forced and fake. “I need to be comfy for this.”
She doesn’t slap me, but it’s only because she can’t. “I’m going to give you some privacy.”
“You’re not staying?” I ask, alarmed. Alone with my parents?
“No, I don’t need to. You’ll be fine.” And without giving me a chance to plead my case, she disappears out of the door, leaving me alone.
I’ll be fine.
Will I?
My heart starts beating double time, and there is fuck all I can do to stop it. My fingers twiddle. Then I frown, feeling at my jaw. What the fuck is that. I roll my eyes, exasperated. Over two weeks’ worth of growth. I hardly look the part for a reunion. I must look like a Yeti. For fuck’s sake. Naked, wounded, hairy, pasty, dry lips, things dangling out of my body, and a fucking piss bag.
My chaotic trail of thoughts grind to a startled stop when the door opens. My chest expands. My heart picks up speed again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper.
And then Dad appears.
And I lose it.
Composure is gone, and I shake my head, my throat closing up on me, my eyes burning. “Oh, my boy,” he whispers, losing it with me.
Fuck.
I roughly wipe at my face, feeling so fucking pathetic, and then Mum appears, and I’m gone again, face streaming, shame and regret joining me at one of the most vulnerable points in my life. I can’t run. I can’t hide.
Can’t drink.
And I don’t want to.
“I’m so sorry,” I croak. “So, so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean the things I said. I didn’t hate you. I hated myself.”
Amalie, crying silently, holds on to Mum as Dad hurries over to my bed and takes me in his arms. Hugs me so hard, I can hardly breathe. But while it really fucking hurts, I need him more than I need the pain to fuck off.
“Son, no. It’s me who’s sorry,” he sobs.
“But—”
“No, no buts. We’ve had years agonizing over losing you. We just wanted to—” He sniffs. Mum weeps. “Love you, my boy. Have missed you so much.”
We’ve lost years. Fucking years.
They love me.
They’ve missed me.
His words? Words I never, ever thought I’d hear? They’re what I needed to hear. I never thought I’d feel their hugs again in my life. But they’re here. For me.
Something breezes through my body—not pain, not discomfort—but something I’ve never felt before.
Forgiveness.
Mum joins us, hugging Dad as Dad hugs me. All three of us a mess of snot and tears and sobs. And Amalie stands at the end of the bed watching us. Smiling mildly through her tears.