Page 62 of The Best Kind of Forever
I fish around for my keys, but the silhouette by my car makes me table my departure.
Once I step into the light, my attention homes in on a man I never thought I’d see at any of my hockey games again, much less standing right in front of me now.
“Dad?”
Richard leans against the side of my car, worry lines etched around his mouth, the brim of his hat barely shielding the ruptured blood vessels in his eyes. “Hayes.”
I drop my hockey bag to the ground. “What are you doing here?”
He lifts himself from the exterior of my Porsche, and even though I dwarf him with my height, he has the gall to step closer toward me. He holds an arm out in front of him—like how one would cautiously approach a cornered dog.
“I’m not here to fight with you. I…you weren’t returning any of my texts.”
As soon as the shock wears off, anger stunts my vision in a cosmos of crimson. “Ever think there was a reason for that?” I snap.
My father’s shoulders angle in guilt. “I know you don’t want to talk to me.”
I flash him a glare that the whole hockey world fears, and something sinister stews in my stomach. “Wow, Dad. That’s the first intelligent thing that’s come out of your mouth.”
I don’t have time for whatever half-assed apology my father is going to feed me. I press my key fob in hopes that driving out of here will save me from a headache, but Richard stops me from getting in.
“I know that my apology is long overdue, but I’m here now, son. I’m going to make things right, whether or not you hear me out. I failed you and your sister. I should’ve stepped up after your mother died, but I was so engrossed in my own grief that I couldn’t bring myself to be around reminders of her. And you—you have her eyes. Whenever I looked at you, I saw her.”
His words encase my heart like barbed wire. I never knew that was the reason why my father distanced himself. I’d created this narrative that he did it because he was a selfish bastard who didn’t want the responsibility of looking after two kids. I needed to blame someone formyfailure as a son, and I transferred that blame onto him.
“I miss you and Faye so much. I miss when we were a family. I’ve been watching the game every week, you know? I’ve been following you through the tabloids. I just wish I’d found the courage to fix things earlier.”
“I…” For someone who’s collected an arsenal of insults for this very moment, words elude me.
My father’s eyes turn shiny, and there’s something more blinding than his grief that shines through pools of gray—something that looks a lot like love. “This is a lot to take in. I don’t expect us to immediately go back to the way things were when your mom was alive. I want to take those first steps with you. I want to be in my incredible son’s life.”
He wants to be in my life. He wants to be my dad again. Sixteen years I’ve gone without his support, and sixteen years I’ve had to look after my little sister while fighting my own battles. But I don’t have to fight alone anymore. I don’t have to be complacent with the bare minimum.
I taste the salt on my lips before I register that I’m crying. “I was so lost without you. We needed you, and you abandoned us. How will I know you won’t leave again when things get hard?”
His face is crestfallen. “I made that mistake once already. I’m not going to do wrong by your mother’s memory anymore. She would’ve wanted us to be a family again. She would be heartbroken to know her death pushed us apart,” he explains, inching closer to me step by step.
I feel like I’ve just crash-landed with no parachute to cushion my fall.
I clear the nerves from my throat, but my voice is still small. “I miss her so much, Dad. I made a promise to her to keep this family together, and I failed. I let my pride get in the way of things. Faye grew up without a father figure because of the decisionImade,” I say.
My father embraces me for the first time since I was a child. My heart rate rises to an uncountable measure, and it’s so loud that I’m sure he can hear it resonating in his own chest.
“No, Hayes. You didn’t fail. You were the child. It wasn’t your responsibility to keep the family together. It was mine.”
As comforting as his hug is, for some reason, I pull away. That self-preservation part of me is trying to recalibrate my brain, and my body wants to switch to survival mode. I’m afraid of letting him back in. Not only will I be affected by it, but Faye will be too.
I curb the turmoil trying to pinch more tears from my eyes. “Why didn’t you just explain your reason for leaving? Why did you make us feel like we were the ones in the wrong?”
“I was ashamed. I was supposed to be strong for the both of you. I couldn’t…I couldn’t admit how broken I was. But the minute I walked away from you two, I knew it would be the worst mistake of my life,” he laments.
I rub the heel of my palm into my chest, like it’ll physically appease the pain. “I want to forgive you, but…”
“It’ll take a while,” Richard finishes, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll wait forever for your forgiveness, Hayes. And if you don’t want me in your life, know I’ll be standing by the phone, just in case you need me.”
Every emotion inside me is going haywire. I feel like I’m seconds away from falling apart, but instead of having to peel my powerless body off the ground, I have my father to lean on now.
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