Page 22 of Heal For Me

This whole thing is finally starting to catch up to me.

“Okay, yeah.” I stretch my arms over my head, not enjoying the cracking, but the aching in my head really makes me grumble. “Sorry, I forgot the busses weren’t running today.”

Parker helps me to my feet, and it takes a lot longer than it should, but eventually, I’m wobbling next to the couch, mostly upright. He heads to grab the rest of his stuff, and I stop off at the bathroom to brush my teeth and fix my mess of hair. I really should get it cut, as it’s past my chin, but I can’t find it in me to care.

“Heading to the car!” I shout for Parker, not caring who I wake meanwhile. He shouts to give him a minute, so I head out to get it started and warm before we need to drive. Thank God I have a garage so I don’t need to clean the snow off.

I enjoy snowboarding, when my knee allows, but I loathe cleaning off cars. I hear Northern Michigan gets a bloody ton of snow; it’d be cool to see, but I don’t understand how they live full-time in that. Wonder if Payson has ever been up there and if it would be something she’d like. I hear it’s beyond beautiful in the summer.

I’m leaning my forehead against the steering wheel listening to the radio when the passenger door flies open and Parker drops in, followed by a thud of his bag on the floor.

“Those three shots really get to you, old man?” He smirks and I glower.

“Be nice to the old man that spent hours drawing a nucleus.”

I break into a grin, unable to pretend I did anything, and we both laugh, but I wince against the throbbing in my head.

“I had fun with you last night, Park. Even if it was biology homework. It was nice for all of us to hang out.”

His smile drops a hair but he nods. “Me too, Papa.”

I reach over and grab his hand, and he glances my way. “I know I’ve been a bloody awful dad to you for far too long, but that changes now. I will be around more. Anything you need, you let me know, okay? You come first, Parker. I’m sorry that wasn’t clear since the beginning.”

I love and hate the happiness spreading across his face. That shouldn’t make him so happy because it should already be obvious, but it wasn’t, and that is my fault.

We pull up outside the school, and he hops out. Before closing the door, he leans down. “I hope today is the day Payson wakes up.”

My throat tightens, but I force a smile. “Me too, son.”

He taps the top of the car and backs up. “If I fail biology, just know I’ll have to live off you forever.”

I snort and throw the car in drive. “Get inside and don’t you dare fail. Janelle put in too much work.”

Parker hurries inside, most likely wanting to get out of the cold—he hates the snow—and once he’s inside, I peel away. Home is where I planned on going, but that’s not where I end up. The hospital sits in front of me, taunting me by holding my fiancée hostage. I can’t find it in me to open the door and get out.

I can’t keep sitting here, day in and day out. I will because I love her, but it’s starting to weigh on me that she’s not waking up. The twitches were exciting at first, but I want more. I need more. I need her awake and to know everything is okay because the more time passes, the more I worry it won’t be.

I don’t know how to handle it if it’s not. If I can’t just command Payson to do what I want. What if she wants nothing to do with me. I can’t get over her, and I don’t want to. Payson Murphy is the other part of my soul. The missing part I have been searching my entire life for. We will end up together, eventually. No matter the path to get there, our happy ever after is waiting patiently for us.

It’s Thanksgiving, and I know Mum will need help cooking, but I don’t want to get out of bed. I don’t want to celebrate a holiday where I’m meant to give thanks when I’m feeling the opposite of grateful. I have plenty to give thanks for, but the one thing I wanted most didn’t happen. She’s still lying in that bed, immune from everything happening around her. She has no idea it’s Thanksgiving, or that her aunt is probably mourning the loss of her dad and sister today instead of celebrating. If my family wasn’t here and I wasn’t looking forward to Parker’s first Thanksgiving, I would stay up with her since Jethro went out of town to visit Olivia for the day. Payson’s aunt is up there, so with her unaware of how important Payson is to me, it’s not settling well.

Eventually, when the sun is high enough and I know Mum must be elbow deep in food, I pull myself from bed and head down. She doesn’t really need help cooking Thanksgiving, Dad is American, after all, and we celebrated every year with all the traditional foods, but it would be nice to offer the help. Might be a good distraction too.

Stopping outside the kitchen, I watch as Mum and Dad converse and move around the kitchen so naturally. Like they’ve been doing it for years, because they have. I guess maybe my parents are the reason I put so much pressure on Payson and myself. I want what they have so bad. Payson has seen only bad examples of relationships, but I grew up watching my parents, who make the love they share beyond obvious. Dad is always touching Mum, and Mum is constantly looking out for Dad in a room when not. They are like magnets, and that’s why it’s difficult for me to pretend I’m not in love with Payson. Our story is different, given our ages, but it doesn’t make my love for her any less. Just more complicated. I can’t randomly grab her and lay a kiss on her lips—I can, and I have—but we need to be careful about where we are and who is around.

The day I can simply pull Payson into my arms without the worry of someone calling the police on me, might be my favorite day yet.

“Good morning, sweetheart. Happy Thanksgiving.” Mum looks over her shoulder as if she knew I was here the whole time.

“Morning.”

She wanders my way and plants a kiss to my cheek after I lean enough for her to reach.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Pops.” I slap Dad’s back before opening the fridge and pulling out my milk jug. Drinking from the jug started when I was a kid. I loved milk and would drink so much of it that Mum started buying me my own. When I moved out and had roommates, I always labeled mine because of it.

“Glad things never change.” He kisses my cheek before continuing whatever he was working on before I walked in.

“Do you need any help?”

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