Page 125 of What if It's Us

I swallow hard. “I’ve hated the man for my entire life. What I can remember of it anyway.” I turn my head toward my dad. My true dad. The one who helped turn me into a decent human being. “Why didn’t we ever talk about him? What he did. Did I ever ask you about him? Mention him to you at all?”

Dad shakes his head. “Nope. Maybe you don’t remember this but one of the first things you said after you got here was that you didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to know anything and you didn’t care.”

I vaguely remember saying something along those lines.

Doesn’t surprise me that I would say something like that.

“He killed my mom. He was a monster who left me in the system and never looked back.”

“So why the visit?” Nick asks quietly. “Why now?

I rub my jaw, eyes tight. “Because I’m about to be a father of three and I’m all kinds of fucked up about it. It’s easier to keep my father a villain in my mind, you know? Makes everything make sense, but then with that comes this nagging fear and anxiety that I’ll end up just like him.”

Dad leans forward, resting his arms on the countertop, his fingers wrapped around his beer. “You’ve spent your whole life surviving hurt you didn’t deserve, Ledger. That’s not on you. But maybe it’s time you stop letting thatversion of the past define you.”

I glance down at my hands. “Marlee thinks I should talk to him. Say my peace, so I’m trying to talk myself into doing it. But…but what good will it do? I know it’s going to fucking suck the moment I step in that place.”

“Maybe it won’t do any good,” Dad answers honestly. “Maybe it just opens old wounds. Or…”

He always gives an or.

“Or maybe it gives you something you didn’t know you needed.”

I look at him, surprised, my brows arched. “You think I should go?”

“I think you should do whatever brings you peace,” he tells me. “But Ledger… if there’s even a chance the story you’ve lived with all this timeisn’ttrue, wouldn’t you want to know?Don’t you want to take the power back and decide who you are, without someone else’s ghost hanging over you?”

I don’t answer right away. My stool creaks under my weight. The bottle in my hand finally sweating through to my palm.

“My mom died at his hand. That’s not something I can just forgive.”

“I’m not asking you to forgive,” Dad says gently. “But maybe understanding isn’t about letting him off the hook. Maybe it’s about lettingyouoff the hook. So, you can be the kind of father you want to be without constantly looking over your shoulder, afraid you’ll turn into him.”

My throat tightens and my eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I’m scared, Dad.”

He puts a tender hand on my shoulder. “Good. That means you care, Ledge. And that right there already makes you a better man than you think.”

“That’s what Marlee says too.”

Dad tips his bottle back against his lips, sipping his drink. “Smart woman, that Marlee. You better keep her around.”

“If I have my way, she’ll be around forever.”

He smiles. “Good to hear.”

We sit in silence again, the night thick with things unspoken.

Finally, I murmur, “How do I even start that kind of conversation?”

Dad twists his mouth and then gives me a half-smile. “The same way you’ve handled everything in your life. Headfirst. Honest. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but real. Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not to someone you’ll inevitably see as a stranger. You owe him nothing.”

I nod slowly, heeding Dad’s encouragement. My chest finally feeling a little lighter.

“Okay, I’ll go.”

Dad clinks his beer bottle gently against mine. “I’ve got your back. Always.”

25 WEEKS

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