Page 226 of Sinful Desires
Marc Théo LeRoy.L’amour de sa vie.
“Do you remember when I used to lose my voice from the fevers?” My throat tightened. It was pathetic how small I sounded. “You’d carry me to the kitchen. Heat up milk at two in the morning.Mamanalways said to let me sleep, but you didn’t listen. You’d sit me on your lap and whisper stories into my ear.”
Pirates. Kings. Magic swords.
Monsters.
“You told me they weren’t real. Said you checked under the bed every night. Even when I got too old to ask. Even when I acted like I didn’t need you anymore.” I looked at his hand, limp on the blanket. “I was a sick kid, huh? You remember that?”
I reached for it. It felt wrong. Rougher. Colder.
“I couldn’t speak sometimes. Couldn’t even lift my head. So, you made a handshake.”
One squeeze. Two. Three. Meant to sayJe t’aime, Théo.
I blinked hard.
“I didn’t earn that kind of love, Dad. Not even close. You gave it anyway. You always did. Even when I spit in your face. Even when I didn’t want it. Even when I made sure you’d hate me, and you didn’t.”
Silence. My jaw ached from clenching it shut.
“You were wrong about the monsters though. They weren’t under the bed. They were in me. Theyareme.”
I was the fucking monster who’d killed his father.
I looked at him. The shell of him. And it fucking gutted me.
“I joined the Navy to outrun it. Thought if I bled hard enough, burned everything down, you’d be proud of whatever came out the other side. But the monsters followed me. Same ones. Different skin. New methods.” I laughed bitterly. It scraped my throat raw. “And that night?…?Jesus, that night. I thought I was untouchable. Twenty-three. Coked up. Drunk off my own fucking ego. And you?…?you still ran after me. Into that storm. Just to drag me out again.”
He’d still saved me.
My hand gripped the bedrail so hard my bones felt like glass.
“You saved me. It cost you everything.” My voice shook. I let it. “You were a giant, Dad. You fixed everything. You made theworld make sense. Now you’re hooked to machines while I’m out here breathing on borrowed air.”
I bit the inside of my cheek until it bled.
“You can’t move. Can’t talk. Can’t scream. But I hear you anyway. I hear you drowning every time I see my face in the mirror.”
I leaned in, my forehead inches from his. My breath fogged against his cheek.
“I ruined you. I stole your life, Dad.”
A tear hit the back of his hand. I let it stay there.
“I killed the man who loved me more than anyone ever will.” A bitter laugh clawed its way out of my lungs. “You should’ve let me drown, Dad. I deserved to die that night.”
Théo! I’m here! Try to swim toward me, son, come on!
But he hadn’t. He’d chosen me. Again. Even when I wasn’t worth choosing. Even when I was the worst fucking version of his son.
“I’m sorry,Papa.Je suis désolé.” The words fell like gravel. “For the party. For the storm. For that night. For every day since. For every breath I took while you’ve been trapped in this half-life. For being your son when you deserved a better one. Someone you could be proud of. Someone who wouldn’t destroy everything good you built. I’m sorry.”
I kissed his knuckles. Shame flooded every cell in my body.
“You taught me how to love. And I repaid you with a bed and a body that can’t even open its eyes.” Another breath. Another punishment. “I’d trade places with you in a second.”
I held his hand again. Stayed silent a few minutes, lungs emptying like they were tired of carrying all this shit.
