Page 91 of Fault Line

HOLDEN

I wakeup in a cold sweat, the numbers on the clock flashing 6:15 a.m. It’s unusually early for me on a weekend morning, especially considering the game last night. My father, who for some unknown reason decided to stay overnight, asked me to join him for breakfast at his hotel.

I’m not sure why, but the sense of urgency in his voice left me uneasy. My phone lies next to me, still no message from Kaia this morning. I texted her after the game, but she never replied. It worries me a little bit, but I figure she finally got some much-needed rest, and for that, I’m thankful.

I groggily roll out of bed, throw on some clothes, and brush my teeth. The mirror reflects a tired, worried face staring back at me. I wish I could just go back to bed, but my father insists on this meeting.

I check my phone one last time, hoping Kaia has woken up by now, but still nothing. With a deep breath, I leave my room and make my way to the hotel.

As I walk into the breakfast area, I see my father sitting at a table, looking somehow more human than he usually does. I approach cautiously, and as I near, he stands up and embraces me in a hug.

It’s unexpected, to say the least, and I can’t resist tensing up.

“Good morning, Holden,” he says, his voice shaky.

“What’s going on, Dad?”

“Well, for one, your mother’s leaving me,” he chokes out, eyes welling up.

A storm of emotions rages inside me—shock, confusion, and, eventually, anger. My fists clench as I stare back at him. “Why the hell are you crying, then?” I spit out. “This has been a long time coming, you know? Not to mention, it’s your fault.”

“You think I don’t already know that?” He sighs, accepting the blame. “You’re young, son. You might understand things differently once you’ve been with the same woman for twenty-four years.”

“You’re wrong,” I retort, my blood boiling, voice shaking with anger. “I know how to appreciate a good thing when I have it.”

My father stares at me for a long moment, then nods. “I’m leaving the house to your mother, and she’ll get her fair share of alimony,” he says simply. “That should be enough to comfort and provide for her for the rest of her life.”

“Yeah, well, some people care about more than just money, Dad,” I snap, my vision blurring.

“Save me the speech.”

The rest of our shoddy attempt at a meal passes in strained silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. My father’s actions have finally shattered our family, and I can’t help but feel betrayed.

My mind inevitably drifts to Kaia and how I can’t imagine myself ever growing tired of her. I know I’m not destined to become like my father. But still, the thought of going down that same road terrifies me.

As we leave the hotel, my father hugs me once more. It’s stiff, unnatural, and I have to resist the urge to flinch away. “I’m sorry, Holden,” he whispers, his voice barely audible now.

I don’t know what to say to that, so I offer a dismissive wave of my hand, my heart heavy with conflicting emotions—remorse for my father’s actions and pride for my mother’s courage.

We go our separate ways, and I’m uncertain of what the future will hold for our family and for me.

I shoot off a quick text to my mom, congratulating her on finally taking the leap. Lord knows what the catalyst was in making her decision, but I guess she’s realized that there are more important things in this life than maintaining a perfect image.

And then, I decide to call my girl, desperately needing her to ground me in the midst of this whirlwind. I dial her number, eager to hear her soothing voice and confide in her. But with each ring of the phone, my stomach clenches tighter, a growing sense of agitation settling over me.

The line continues to ring until it connects to the all-too-familiar sounds of her voicemail box. My heart sinks, weighed down by disappointment and the realization that the person I need most right now remains out of reach.

* * *

Sittingin my car in the parking lot of the hotel, I lean my head back against the seat, my body tense with apprehension. The entire situation feels like a storm cloud hovering above me, ready to unleash its fury. My stomach churns, and I struggle to contain the wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm me.

As I sit here, lost in thought, my phone suddenly dings with a text, and I perk up the tiniest bit, hoping it’s finally Kaia replying to me. But instead, it’s a message from my mom.

She tells me she wants to see me soon and hopes I can fly home during the winter break to spend some time with her. At least, before the divorce proceedings get underway. My heart aches for her, and I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s coping with all of this.

Moments later, another text comes in. This time, it’s from Harris, asking if I’ve heard about Mom and Dad. I ignore the message, not wanting to deal with talking to my brother right now.

The only person I want to see, the one person I think could truly help me through this, is Kaia.

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