You wrote "Don't Forget"

Chapter 16- The Letter

For the second time that week, I woke up next to Alejandro. I opened my eyes and there he was. Not quite sleeping, his eyes half-open, a smirk playing on his lips when he found me staring at him.

"Hi," I whispered with a yawn, trying not to open my mouth too much so as to avoid giving him a whiff of bad breath.

"Hi," He said, his hands tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

I could get used to this.

Before I could even protest at the loss of his warm touch, he stood up. I gripped his wrist with a single plea dancing at the tip of my tongue. "Don't go." I said, like a child - allowing myself to be vulnerable around him.

He bent down and left the mark of a kiss on my cheek. "I have to."

Looking down at his clothes lying haphazardly all over the floor, he laughed.

"I don't think I can wear that in a school. Do you have anything spare I could wear?" He asked.

"All yours." I said, gesturing towards my cupboard.

While he fished around for clothing, I made myself presentable. Two minutes later when I came out of the bathroom, I saw something in his hand which shouldn't have been there.

The envelope. The envelope my father had given me and I had chucked away was in Alejandro's hand.

The worst thing was that it was open.

I looked at him with my mouth gaping. I took in his face. It had paled, his eyes were no longer twinkling. He turned to me, his eyes widening as if I had walked in on something I shouldn't have.

"I think you should read this." He said, his voice devoid of any emotion. I gulped. I didn't want to know, I didn't want to - did I? - looking at his panic-stricken face scared me.

I took the letter from Alejandro, my hand shaking. After thirty seconds of trying to get my eyes to focus on a shaking letter, I gave up and just put it on a desk. I started reading it:

Dear Tristan,

I have never been able to communicate well with you and you are well aware of that, so I won't waste my time trying to find the right words to say. There aren't any right words for this. You shouldn't have to go through this, not again. But it will hurt more if you didn't know and no matter how hard this is, this is the right thing to do.

I haven't been the best of fathers, I am well aware. Maybe I haven't even been a father these past years. I know that I have no right to unveil this, to burden you with this. But I really hope you open this letter before it is too late.

Son, I am dying. There's no delicate way to put it. There's no right way to say it. I have been blunt most of my life, so there's no point in not being who I am in death. I have a few months. Stage three cancer and the drugs aren't working, the experimental programs aren't working. Nothing is working.

It seems unlikely that I will live. So I feel it is my duty to tell you this before an obituary does. This does not remedy the hell I gave you the past few years. This does not remedy me leaving you when you needed me the most.

Tristan, there were reasons. They might not have been good enough. Nothing is good enough for that. But I was trying, son, I was trying.

If it is too late however, I want you to know that I am proud of you. You have brought light into my life. Stood up on your own feet with bolting ambition. Your mother would be proud of you too, if only she could see you now. You beautiful, beautiful boy, my son, I love you even though I might not show it. After your mother, I lost the ability to show it, but I love you and you should know that.

After I am gone, I want you to carry on. I want you to keep carrying on. I want you to keep living your life. Of course, there's the matter of the company and there's no one I trust enough to run it but you but I also know you aren't interested in running it. So, you will still own it but you won't run it. I want you to fulfill your dreams and then I will be happy and at peace.

Do I hope this letter will get you to see me before I go? Yes. Is that selfish? Yes. Can I stop myself? No.

I hope it isn't too late,

With Love and Best Wishes,

Dad.

The letters were getting blotched from the tears streaming down my face, this couldn't be- it couldn't - he - Dad- No, it couldn't.

This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening, this wasn't -

The letter slipped out of my hands. Suddenly I felt as if I had lost all energy required to even stand up. I slid down to my knees, all the while shaking. Eyes wide open, cheeks lined with tears. I felt like there was a hurricane moving within me and I had to do everything in my power to not let it consume me.

"This is not real." I whispered.

Alejandro placed a hand on my shoulder. "Tristan."

"This isn't real. This isn't happening." I whispered again, shutting my eyes. Darkness.

Nothing else. There was just Darkness and Darkness. Nothing existed outside of this. This is where I was and where I wanted to stay forever but I knew that I couldn't. I couldn't.

I opened my eyes and everything came crashing down, cutting me open and pressing the wound again and again. The hurricane took over.

The gateways opened, the sobs accompanied the tears as I shook like a quivering mountain. Alejandro pulled me close to his chest as I soaked the shirt I lent him with my tears. I held on to him like an anchor but I wasn't sure if any anchor was strong enough to hold me in.

But I wasn't there. I wasn't there.

I didn't want to live in a reality which cut me open again and again and again. I didn't want to be here, I didn't want any of this to be real. But just because I wanted it didn't make it any less real. It was real and I knew it, even though I didn't want to believe it. It was so real that it hurt like the worst thing in the world. It hurt like the pain that never goes away. The pain which feels like it will stay forever.

I was away in my memories.

The first memory I have of my father is from when I was four. I liked being like him. I am wearing his watch which is way too big for me. I am trying on his coat and he looks at me with love in his eyes and pulls me into a hug. And I feel safe. I feel like nothing in the world can ruin this. I feel invincible. I was everything when I was with my father.

And now I would be nothing without him.

Nothing.

"Is it too late?" I said, stuttering gasping for air. I said what I feared. I couldn't breathe. All the air in the world wasn't enough, nothing was enough. A forever wasn't enough to make up for the valuable time I lost, to what I was going to lose.

"If it was, it would be all over the news and it isn't." Alejandro said, still holding me. I mumbled incoherent cries against his chest and he let me. I stayed there in his arms and for some reason, I didn't feel safe.