Page 89 of The Penalty

One Of A Kind

Dev

I have to steelmyself to walk through that glass door. It takes everything in me, but I think of Cece standing in front of me, defending me from her family, and I know I have to do this.

The place has seen better days. Cracked red vinyl benches and scratched tables sit on the black-and-white checkered floor. I shake my head at the bored-looking woman in the blue diner-style dress that walks up to me. “Meeting someone.”

“Sounds good. Coffee?”

I shake my head. Caffeine will only make me more jittery than I already am. Don’t think I can handle that right now.

“I’ll bring you some water.” She must be bored. Only two tables are occupied and one lone guy at the counter. The chef is leaning over the counter to chat with him.

“Thanks.”

I head for the booth in the far corner where he’s sitting. His eyes were locked on the door as the door chimes announced my entrance and he gestured me to join him. As if I wouldn’t recognize him or something.

He pushes up from his seat as I approach, reaching out to shake my hand. Disappointment sags his features when I ignore the offer, sinking with a creak onto the bench. I’m not ready for that yet.

“Hi, son,” he says. “I’m so glad you came.”

“I’m not doing this for you.”

“I know. That’s fine. It’s good to see you. You look so good. How’s everything going?”

A bitter laugh slips through my laughs. “You want a rundown of the last fifteen years?”

“No. Yes. I just needed to know you’re okay.”

I sigh, running a hand through my beard. I came here for a reason. Closure. Information. Healing. Something. I’m going to have to give a little if I want this to work.

“Hockey season has been pretty good. We won champs last year.”

“I know. As soon as I found out where you were, I started keeping track of your progress. You play defense, right?”

“Yup.”

The waitress stops by with a glass of water and two menus. “I’ll be back,” she says when we barely glance at her.

“I’m glad to see things are working out well for you. How were things, after....”

“After you abandoned me for your addictions?” It comes out sharper than I intended, but there’s a lot of hurt and resentment buried inside.

“Yes. I know words can’t make up for what I put you through, but I am sorry. I always struggled, but after your mother died, I couldn’t handle it. I let it take over. And I will always be sorry for that. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. You probably never want to see me again after this, but I still needed to tell you.”

“Did you need to tell me for me, or for you?” I’m still tempted to get up and walk away, but I think I need this too.

“For myself. I’ve always been selfish, but I’m trying to learn. To be better. I told you I’ve got a job, and a new fiancée. I’m trying to be the best I can for them, after I failed you so hard.”

The pain is always there, usually a dull ache, but it ramps up to a throbbing intensity. Why couldn’t he have been there for me?

“What did I do?” This is it. The question that’s been nagging at me. What did I do to him? Why did I lose his love? Why did he abandon me?

“Oh, Devlin. It was never you. It’s never been on you. I was sick. I couldn’t look after myself, much less you. I’ll always regret I wasn’t strong enough to put you first.”

“Me too.” I tell him. “Can I see some pictures?”

“Of my fiancée?”

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