Treetops

13.

The man spread out his arms asking for a hug, but Evan stood still, hesitant to express any emotion. 

"What are you doing here?" The man sighed and sat back down on the rickety couch, scooting over to make room for Evan. He looked at his mom who was pretending to wash dishes, but Evan knew that the dishes got washed in the morning. He slowly made his way to the open spot on the couch and sat down uncomfortably. 

"Evan," the man's voice was deep and loud. Evan thought he would be good for stand up comedy. "You have grown so much since I last saw you. Come give your old man a hug." Rage boiled inside Evan.

"You left when I was six! Where were you? Do you know what it was like being the only kid who's father wasn't there for Father's Day breakfast? Do you know how hard it was explaining to therapists that my dad had run away with a slut? You don't get to come back. You're no father, you're just the man who fucked my mom. You don't deserve the title of father!"

Evan got up and ran to his room. The anger inside of him turned into a waterfall of tears. He punched the door repeatedly. The bang of his fist against the door gave him more energy. The paint was starting to chip away and splintering wood was showing. After a while, his energy drained away and he curled up into a ball on his floor and started heavily sobbing. His knuckles were bleeding and the sight of the blood made him scared, causing him to cry more. His vision was becoming spotty from the lack of oxygen. He stopped breathing, trying to make the pain of reality go away forever. He barely noticed the footprints that crept up to him slowly and quietly. A familiar, rough hand was placed on his shoulder. 

"C'mon honey," his mom whispered. She picked him up and the two sat on his bed until his breathing slowed down.

"I know this is shocking, but your father was in... well let's just say he's going through some tough times and he needed  to come back. I know you don't like that's he's here. I don't like it either, but we can't tell him to leave."

"You can't? Because you can just show him to the door and shove his stuff into his suitcase. This isn't his house anymore. It's our house. Tell him to leave. We did fine for 11 years, we can do fine now." Evan stuttered. 

"Evan, his mother sighed. "It's... it's complicated. But for our safety I think it's better for him to stay. You don't have to love him or even talk to him. Just be nice to him. For me. Okay honey? It'll all be okay. And soon you'll go to college and you won't have to worry about him ever again. Now tell me about your boyfriend."