Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
The guilt she projects in waves slams against my own until I can’t breathe.
“Son?” Dad is on my other side. “You came back, oh, thank fuck.”
He reaches above my head to push something.
Failure. That’s what Dad looks like. He feels a sense of failure. Like I did for almost a decade.
“Bran?” The broken sound belongs to Glyn. She’s crying, rivulets of tears streaming down her rosy cheeks.
Her feelings of grief mix with the myriad of emotions rippling through me until I choke.
What have I done?
“Honey, can you hear us?” Mum asks.
“Yeah…” My voice is groggy and choked as I try to sit up.
The three of them help me carefully, as if I’ll break if they touch me the wrong way. And I hate that I’ve put them through this. I hate that I’m the reason people important to me are struggling.
I single-handedly crushed them because I couldn’t be strong enough.
The doctors come by to check on me and ask me a few questions. The entire time, Mum holds my right hand and Glyn my left one. Dad watches from the side, looking ten years older than his actual age.
What the fuck have I done?
As soon as the doctors leave the room, I look behind them, searching for the presence I need with me the most now.
But I don’t spot a large tattooed man.
You expect him to have stayed after you showed him how much of a fuckup you are?
Mum squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry, honey. So, so sorry.”
I stare between her and Dad. “What… What are you sorry about? I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“Bran, no.” My father shakes his head, pain erupting in his exhausted features. “There’s nothing you should be sorry about. Absolutely nothing, you hear me? We’re the ones who need to apologize for letting you down.”
“No, Dad…”
“We saw the clip.” The words tumble from his lips like an ancient destructive curse. And I feel myself teetering on the verge of another breakdown.
Only, now, surprisingly, there’s no black ink.
Mum sobs and that makes Glyn cry harder.
Dad strokes her shoulder. “Astrid, get it together, please.”
“I’m sorry.” She drags in a heavy breath and faces me on a long exhale. “I’ll never forgive myself for bringing her into our lives. For not seeing the signs and even pushing you to make her your agent, for not being there for you—”
“No, Mum, no,” I cut her off. “You were always there for me. Always. You respected my decisions and choices and never pushed me to do anything I didn’t want to do. I’m the one who hid myself. I’m the one who decided not to say anything. I never…never blamed you, so please, don’t do that. Please.”
“I can’t.” Fresh tears flow out of her. “I just can’t help thinking that if it wasn’t for me—”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. “Don’t say that, please. That’s what I used to tell myself day in and day out. I used to think that if it wasn’t for me, this family would be perfect. I don’t want to hear you having those thoughts as well.”
“Brandon, son.” Dad sits beside Mum and they both grip my hand tight. “This family can’t exist without you, you understand?”
“I don’t want it without you,” Mum says on a sob.
“Yeah, Bran.” Glyn strokes my cheek, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “I can only be here because of your care and understanding. You’ve helped me countless times. I wouldn’t have gotten here without you. So please, please, let us help you this time.”
“Let us be your family,” Dad says, and I can’t control the tear that slides down my cheek.
All this time, I thought I was the decay of a perfect family. My ludicrous jealousy and inferiority complex toward Lan ate me alive and I let it consume me, which led me to Grace. Things took a nosedive into disaster after that.
The worse my mental state got, the harder I fought to remain afloat. The more sinister my demons became, the more insistent I was about my mantra of avoiding and pretending.
At some point, my mind turned on me and I became my own worst enemy. Through it all, I grasped at straws, fighting and struggling to keep belonging to this family I was lucky to be born into.
I thought if they saw me as a weakling, as the man who said yes then denied it and claimed to be wronged, they’d be disappointed. I thought if they saw me as someone who was not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, they’d turn their backs on me.
But as I look at their faces, at the grief mixed with relief, I know without a shadow of a doubt that was never the case.
I let dark thoughts infest my head and drag me into the black hole of self-hatred. And in doing that, I failed to see just how much I mean to these people. How the thought of losing me has left them shell-shocked and unrecognizable.