“So you had fun last night, huh?” I ask.
She looks mortified. “I don’t even remember coming home. I didn’t think I had that much to drink, but apparently I did. I’m sorry for coming in here. This must feel totally weird to you.” She holds the blanket close to her face, and I see her eyes get heavy again. It’s not weird at all. It feels… good. “I must have thought this was Kai’s room.”
“I hope you had a great birthday,” I say.
“I think I did.”
“My birthday was yesterday also.” I can’t believe I just told her. I didn’t think that through. I never celebrate it because of what my dad did to himself on this day, but I just blurted it out without thinking.
Her eyes grow wide. “Really?”
I nod slowly and turn on my side to face her. “I don’t really like to celebrate it. It doesn’t elicit happy memories for me.”
“Me either,” she says, and her eyes glaze over. She looks exhausted. Is she about to cry?
“That’s understandable,” I say. “How do you do it, though? You seem like you have it way more together than I ever could.” She’s strong and confident. I’m surprised to see this moment of weakness.
“I don’t know. Sometimes my birthday is really hard. Especially because it’s a reminder of everything that I’ve lost. My family.” She pauses and looks pensively out the window. “I sometimes feel like I’m drowning without them, but then I remember they taught me how to swim.”
She’s insightful and inspiring. “It seems like you’ve been able to find peace, in a way,” I say encouragingly.
“I think I have.” She holds my gaze with her sleepy eyes and says, “You should try to find peace too. You have a really big reason to do that now, you know.”
I nod again and admit, “I never thought I’d be in this situation.”
“Being a father isn’t a situation. It’s a choice.”
“It wasn’t my choice, Sam.”
Her face hardens and her eyes fill with tears. “It’s your choice now. It’s your life now. That little boy depends on you to live. Stop dwelling on the events that you had no control over and start focusing on your future with Kai, because I know it’s going to be wonderful.”
I exhale and struggle to find my next breath. Her words are profound and tear right through me. These words come from a girl whose parents were murdered and her life forever altered. Yet she’s risen from it all and has the ability to be so positive about the rest of her life. And mine.
I reach out to push aside a thick curl that fell onto her face. She closes her eyes when my hand brushes against her cheek.
She places her hand over mine, her touch softens my soul. It transmits strength and security. Love and understanding. I don’t want her to let go. She exhales softly and is sound asleep.
“Where did you come from?” I whisper.
Sam
Past
Trenton, New Jersey
Age 20
CASSIE FALLS ONTO HER BED across from mine and lets out a sigh of relief.
“This was easily the hardest year yet. I don’t think I can take clinicals anymore.” She complains and rolls over, kicking off her tennis shoes. We just finished our microbiology final and we’re done for the semester.
“Seriously, Cassie? You’ve gotten straight As so far. What are you complaining about?”