Page 110 of Truck Me

“I should know you, shouldn’t I?”

My breath hitches, and my heart falls out of my chest. The doctor warned me of this, but I hoped I’d never have to witness the pain reflecting back at me in my dad’s eyes.

“Yeah.” My voice cracks and tears run down my cheeks. I’m too emotionally distraught to hold them back.

“I’m sorry.” Those two words from my dad nearly break me. I squeeze my eyes closed and nod quickly, hoping he can’t see just how much this hurts me. It’s not his lack of recognition that’s breaking me, but rather the pain it’s causing him.

“Good night, sweetheart.” Mom squeezes my arm as she leads dad past me. I can tell by the sound of her voice she feels the same pain as me.

We both knew this would happen at some point, but he’s been so good the past few weeks. It had given me hope that we’d have more time before moments like this stole my dad away from me.

As soon as Mom and Dad disappear up the stairs, I let myself fall to the floor and cry. I cry like I’ve never cried before.

I’ve lived through some truly awful days in my life, but something about tonight is worse than all the others combined.

I had to face the man who destroyed the life and career I loved.

I feel betrayed by a man that had quickly become one of the most important people in my life.

My dad doesn’t know I am.

And I feel like I’ve lost my sister all over again. I’m questioning if I even really knew her at all.

Because I’m struggling to wrap my head around the secret that she took to her grave.

A secret that has completely crushed my world.

Chapter 24

I shut my heart down for a reason.

Garret

Two days of no communication.

Two days of sulking in the mess I’ve made of my life.

And two days of avoiding all contact with another living soul.

That ends today.

Grams summoned me to the house via a brief text message. All she said was seven o’clock in the kitchen. No fanfare. No fuss. Just one simple command.

A command that I will not disobey. Because it’s Grams.

Even though I’d prefer to hide out in my house and never show my face again, I leave my house promptly at six fifty-five and make the walk across the property to the main house.

The house that has haunted me my entire life.

Unlike my brothers, who actually share good memories growing up in that house, my memories are sad and filled with anguish. All I see when I enter the main house is Dad’s angry and hurt expression every time he looks at me. I see hatred and blame for something I had no control over, and yet I’m still the reason it happened.

If I didn’t exist, Mom might still be alive today. She would have undergone treatment that could have saved her life. If she lived, then Dad never would’ve fallen into his own pit of despair. He would have been there for his family rather than turning into the shell of a man he is today.

His pain became my pain. I shouldered his loss and heartache. I’ve carried the blame and have never once complained that it was too much or too harsh of a punishment.

I’d argue the punishment for taking Mom’s life hasn’t been harsh enough.

And considering the current mess I find myself in, there isn’t enough time remaining in this life of mine to make up for my transgressions.