I’m realizing right in this moment, as everything starts to finally fit together in my head, that Nolan is the only thing in my life that has ever made me feel calm and normal. I will never actually be normal, but he makes it easier to pretend, and I think I’m starting to like it.
Seeing the slow rise and fall of his chest allows me to expel the breath I was holding and I look back to the person in the doorway, aiming the beam of my flashlight in that direction.
“I can’t do this anymore, I can’t. It’s too much. I thought I could do it; I thought if I just acted like it never happened, I would forget, but I can’t. You’ve made it impossible for me to forget. Nolan already knows too much: if he finds out everything, it will all be over for both of us.”
My father sobs, his shoulders heaving as his arms drop and the board in his hands clatters to the ground. I watch him warily, having no idea what he’s talking about and not trusting him one bit. His arm reaches out to the side and he flips a switch I forgot was there, the small room suddenly exploding with light.
“There’s no point trying to go on with this charade any longer. It was a stupid idea and I should have known it wouldn’t work,” he tells me, his eyes darting around the room, refusing to look at me.
My frustration with him grows to epic proportions as he speaks to me with cryptic words—just like my mother did before she shot herself—instead of just spitting out what he needs to say.
“Once again, you’re not making any sense. Sober up and then maybe we can talk about all the secrets and lies I’ve started to remember that all revolve around you,” I inform him, my teeth clenched so tightly together I just might crack one in half.
“I haven’t had a drink since this morning,” he replies sadly. “I couldn’t take another drink after I watched Nolan drive you away in my car. I knew you had been in my office, and I knew you opened the safe. The file was put in backward and the papers inside were in the wrong order. I knew where you were going, and I knew it was only a matter of time before it would all come back to you.”
I look into his eyes and realize he’s telling the truth. Aside from his steady clear voice, when he’s not sniffling and choking back sobs, his eyes are no longer bloodshot. They’re bright and filled with unshed tears, but they’re clear and no longer glazed over with alcohol and grief.
“Your mother knew right away. I could see it in her eyes every time she looked at you, but she still went along with it because I asked her to. She always did whatever I asked because she knew everything that happened was because of her mistake. She would have done anything to take back that one lapse in judgment, that one moment of desire that she couldn’t fight, but you can’t reverse time and fix your mistakes. You just have to learn how to live with them.”
I scoff, shaking my head at him, wanting to pick up the board he dropped and smack him over the head so he’ll start to make sense.
“Obviously she never learned how to live with her mistakes since she put a gun in her mouth and took the easy way out,” I remind him.
He sobs even louder, the sound making me wince and want to cover my ears.
“I know you’ve started to remember the things I hoped would never come back to you. I knew it that day in your bedroom when you told me about secrets being hidden,” he tells me, taking a deep breath to try and stop the quivering in his voice. “I wanted to hate you so much… You stole everything from me and still, I can’t hate you. You couldn’t help what you did. We tried to fix you, but we only made it worse.”
An irritated laugh huffs out of my mouth and I shake my head at him in disgust. “Yes, I’ve started remembering things. Like Dr. Thomas and the things he did to me. Do you have any idea what I had to live through with him? And you gave me to him. I was five years old and you tossed me away to a sick, twisted man who got a smile on his face every time he hooked me up to the electric shock machines, stuck needles in my arms to pump me full of drugs and every other horrible thing you could possibly imagine. You wanted to hate me? I think I’m the one who deserves to feel all of the hate in the world for you and my mother.”
I toss the flashlight to the side since I no longer need it, realizing that as much as I would like to bash his head in with it, I’m still waiting for him to give me some information that I actually haven’t already figured out on my own.
“You still don’t remember everything, do you? Please God, remember. Don’t make me relive it all over again. It’s too much. Oh God, it hurts too much!” he wails pathetically.
“Don’t you DARE talk to me about pain!” I shout, cutting off his mournful cries. “I spent the last thirteen years of my life, day in and day out, subjected to more pain than you’ll ever know.”
“Oh God! Oh God, what did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO?!”