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Chapter Thirty Six - Neil

Indeed I heard the light thudding of Roland's steps exit the guest room and walk across the balcony to the stairs.

I couldn't pretend to be asleep anymore.

When he finally made it to the wooden floor of the living space, I sat up and stretched.

"Good morning, son," he quietly said as he made his way into the kitchen.

It was still dark outside, but he was up.

"We need to talk," I replied sternly.

He may have cleaned up the whole house when Esther and I went upstairs and kindly shut the sliding screen so the insects wouldn't get in, but sharing that kindness didn't cover up the fact that he wasn't a good father and isn't a decent man.

It was about two hours before Esther had to be awake and that was plenty of time for the few things I had to say to him.

"Sure thing, coffee?"

My knees make it difficult for me to stand up, "Uh, no. We don't have coffee here. We have tea and juice, probably. Maybe some milk."

I meet him in the kitchen as he shakes his head, "No coffee?" Then under his breath, "What has she done to you..."

"I wanna give you a chance to right any wrongs," I was hesitant, but I had to address him the way he would want, "Dad. Esther and I spoke, we think you should stay here for a bit. I'll help you with any medical expenses or needs."

We sit on opposite sides of the dining room table, mirroring each other with crossed arms and pinched brows.

"Why do you want that, son? I saw the way you were looking at me last night. Takes me back down the dark road of raising you."

I told my head to the side inquisitively, "What do you mean?"

Roland shakes his head back and forth as he rubs his face with his palms.

He's stalling.

'As he should.'

'He's scared.'

I nod in agreement.

"It doesn't matter. It's the past, I just can't get over the look of absolute hell in your eyes. Made me nervous."

"Why?"

The man who half helped with raising me couldn't seem to bear holding my stare anymore because he turned his head away, "I don't wanna end up dead."

Something like a thick cement lined my gut, my lungs, my throat.

I would call it a guilt lining, but I have to believe that this is just a feeling of preparedness.

"Listen, Dad... just stay here, okay? I know you have a hard enough time with balancing your life now that it's changed. If it's worth anything, I'm sorry for any health issues I've caused over the past few years. It must have been stressful parenting me, I understand–"

"Neil. My body is, and always will be, my own problem. It's always been your job as my only kid to stress me out."

His words worked like a stale salve to my emotional wounds that I've been desperately trying to lick since childhood.

But now?

He is out to destroy everything nice I've built for myself post-Adrienne.

She fucked me for the decade we were together and is still continuting to fuck me even after death, bringing my father back into my life so I could marry her sister.

"Where is Reaghan, anyway?"

That seemed to make him perk slightly, "She's at a hotel that I got for her temporarily. She was supposed to come here after I talked with you, but... well, there's still time."