by Natalie Ward
Dad looks up at my voice, surprise flashing across his face. “Luke, ah…what are you doing here?”
I take a deep breath. “I came here to talk to you,” I say, knowing that’s not exactly true. “To tell you that I don’t want you coming by the house anymore. I don’t want to see you, Dad,” I say, my hand running over my head. “I don’t want to, and Mia doesn’t want to either. We don’t want you in our lives anymore.”
I watch as he stands up, his face hard like it always was. He moves slower now though, and I notice the shaking hands, the sweater he’s wearing despite the heat. He lifts his eyes to mine. “I have cancer, Luke.”
A laugh escapes me as my head falls back, but I’m not laughing at him, it’s more the irony of this whole fucked up situation, at the words he chooses to say. Of course this wouldn’t be about me coming to talk to him. It had to be about him.
“And?” I eventually ask him, lowering my head.
“And I’m trying to make amends,” he says, zero emotion on his face or behind the words he’s saying.
“Amends?” I ask incredulously. “Amends, that’s what you want to fucking call it?”
He exhales loudly, and I can’t help but notice how rough his breathing sounds, as though all the cancer is in his lungs and it’s holding on to the air, refusing to give it up so he can breathe. It’s an interesting image in my brain, and one that fits with so many other parts of my dad.
“What would you have me call it, Luke?” he asks eventually, the annoyance in his voice coming through loud and clear.
I look at him, force myself to stare into his eyes. All I see are the same cold eyes that always looked back at me. The same cold eyes, which never showed any emotion when I was a kid and aren’t showing any towards me now.
“I couldn’t give a fuck what you want to call it, Dad, but how about you try starting with a fucking apology? That would probably be a good place to start.”
He stares at me, not saying a word, and I’m about to walk out when he finally speaks. “I’m dying, Luke. You owe me this much at least.”
Fuck, shit, fuck.
I feel like my head is about to fucking explode. I want to scream at him. I want to yell in his face and kick and punch something. But even the thought of wanting to do that, wanting to do that to him, calms me down. I’m not that person, I am not him. I will never be him.
I take a deep breath. “I don’t owe you shit, Dad.”
His eyes hold mine, his shaking hands by his side as he says, “I’d like your forgiveness, Luke. I’m going to die, sooner rather than later, and I’d like your forgiveness for what happened in the past, in Boston.”
Something inside me snaps at his words, at the insinuation that it’s me who owes him something. I take two steps towards him and stand here, face to face with the man who nearly broke me.
“Forgiveness?” I yell at him. “You want my forgiveness. You can’t even fucking apologise, you asshole. Why the fuck should I forgive you?”
He stands his ground. “Because I’m asking you to, Luke,” he says in the same detached emotion, as though this is somehow all so very obvious. As though this is something I should already know.
“Well, Dad, too bad. Because aside from fucking up both mine and Mia’s life, which you obviously don’t think you need to apologise for, have you forgotten that you punched me in the face, twice? You were my father you fucking prick, you were supposed to protect me, not fucking hit me.”
“Luke…” he says, trying to interrupt, but I’m not letting him now.
“You broke my eye socket, Dad. Did you know that? I could’ve lost the sight in my eye. I could’ve pressed fucking charges against you, but I didn’t,” I stop to take another breath, my heart pounding in my chest. “And you want to know why, Dad?” I ask. “Because you weren’t worth the effort. You weren’t worth the fucking effort it would take.” My breathing is harder now and I step back, afraid I might take this further than I intend to.
Both my hands wind up on top of my head in sheer frustration. I’m breathing hard as though I’ve just run a marathon and it’s taking every ounce of self-control just to calm down. I feel Jared tense as he stands behind me and when I glance back at him I can see the restraint he’s also fighting. I know he wants to say something, possibly do something, and I know he’s trying desperately not to. He’s keeping his promise to Mia.
“Luke,” Dad says, his voice quieter. “I’m dying.”
I exhale loudly, the frustration I’m feeling tightening inside me. “Jesus Christ, Dad, do you know how many times I actually wished you were fucking dead when I was a kid?”
Finally he reacts, a tiny glimmer of shock, passing over his face. “You did?”
I run my hand over my head and down my face. I am frustrated beyond belief at the idea that he actually expects me to forgive him. That he has no idea at all about everything he did to me, everything he did to Mia, even the things he did to Jared. Boston was bad, but it was only one thing in a long list of nightmares. And yet here we stand, and still, he has no fucking clue about how I really feel.
“Yeah, Dad, I did.”
“When?” he asks.
“Well, where do you want me to start?” I say, my voice hard. “I mean we could go way back to when we were kids and the constant shit you put me and Mia through.” Jared steps closer to me at the mention of Mia’s name and as the two of us stand side by side, facing my dad, I continue, “And let’s not forget you smashing my face in back in Boston or the fucking grief you caused Mia in Chicago. Fuck, you might be dying, Dad, but that doesn’t mean I have to forgive you before you do.”
“Boston was an accident, Luke, I’ll admit that it should never have happened.”
My whole body freezes. An accident, is he fucking kidding me? And then before I can stop myself, the words spew out of my mouth. All of the words I’ve kept bottled up inside me. All of the feelings I wanted to throw in his face. All of the things I should’ve had said to him years ago. All of it comes out.
“Fucking hell, an accident?”
“Luke…” he starts, but I cut him off.
“You know what, I will never forgive you, never. I won’t and you wanna know why? Because I hate you. How can I possibly forgive you when I hate you? How can I possibly forget this so called accident when I fucking hate you? Don’t you get it, I can’t do any of it,” I spit out at him. “I fucking hate you, and not just for Boston, but for everything. For my childhood, for Mia’s, for what you did to her in Chicago, for what you did to Jared. For fucking everything, Dad. I wish you could understand it, but you can’t, you never will. And I fucking hate you for that too.” I stop and take a deep breath.
“Luke…” he says, taking a step towards me.
I feel Jared tense beside me again and I hold up my hand stopping everything. “But most of all, Dad,” I continue quietly. “I hate you because you make me hate myself and I’m fucking tired of hating myself, I’m fucking tired of all of it.”
“I…” he stops, maybe unsure about what to say to my sudden explosion. I can almost see the confusion and conflict warring on his face.
“Just forget it, I’m going.” I turn and start to walk out of the room, Jared following me.
“Luke, please.”
Fuck, that’s gotta be the first time I’ve ever heard that word out of his mouth, especially associated with my name. It stops me right in my tracks, despite the fact that all I want to do is walk out of here and go home to Ash. Asha, my safety, my lifeline… my everything. She is the one person who knows better than anyone what it’s like to lose a father. Only she loved him and he loved her, more than anything. He’s the one who deserves to be alive, not my asshole father. I glance down at the ring of hers that I wear, the one I never take off. The ring that I now know belonged to her dad. It was his wedding band, was put on his finger by the woman who loved him, the woman he loved and the mother of his child, who he adored. The man I wish I could have met, the man I wish was still alive toda
y. That’s what family really is, not the shit Mia and I had to live through.
“What, Dad?” I finally ask, my fingers slowly spinning the ring on my finger.
I hear him take another deep breath before he finally says, “I… I’m sorry for what I did to you.”
I’m pretty sure I stop breathing now. I can’t believe he has just apologised. I can’t believe he’s actually said those two words to me. I turn back to look at him. He looks old, exhausted, and a part of me wonders if the reality of finally having to say those words out loud, has done that. But his eyes are still so cold, so fucking cold that another part of me wonders if he’s just saying it because he knows it’s what I want to hear.
We stare at each other for a long time and his expression never changes. And that’s when I realise the truth.
“I’m not sure I will ever forgive you for what you did to me or Mia, Dad. I can barely forget it, let alone forgive you for it,” I finally say to him.
His shoulders fall at my words and I know it’s not what he expected me to say. He probably thought if he finally acknowledged what he did to me, it would somehow make everything be okay. But it hasn’t. Because not only are there three other words, which he has never uttered to me, but because I know he doesn’t mean a damn thing he’s saying to me right now. That nothing I just said to him has even made a dent.
“You can’t?” he eventually asks in a small voice that sounds unbelievably strange coming from his mouth.
“No.”
“Why, Luke?”
I take a deep breath and finally say what I’ve needed to say all these years. “I can’t forgive you, Dad, because I don’t actually believe you’re sorry. And the reason I don’t believe you’re sorry is because I don’t think for one second that you have ever loved me, or Mia. And what kind of father does that make you? Not one that I want, that’s for sure. And certainly not one who I can ever forgive.”
He doesn’t say anything and it’s almost like I’m watching him age with every one of my words. “That’s why I can’t forgive you, Dad, because I was never a son to you in the first place. I was an asset, a commodity, to treat as you saw fit, to make you look good. And I will never forgive you for that.”
He says nothing now and as I turn and walk out, I hear Jared say, “And you’re fucking lucky I’m not bothering to list all the reasons I hate you, asshole. But just know, if you go anywhere near Mia again, you will be sorry.”
And then he’s beside me and we are both walking down the hall and out the front door. As it closes behind us, I take a deep breath, pulling it into my lungs, as I try to calm myself down.
“Well, that went well,” Jared says sarcastically.
I turn to look at him, raise my eyebrow as I say, “Did we think it would go any different?”
“Nope,” Jared says, shaking his head. “The guy’s a fucking asshole, there’s no changing that.”
“Yep. Thanks for coming with me though, J,” I say to him as we stand on the porch.
“Anytime dude, you know that.” And I do, because Jared has always been there for me, since the day I first met him. Whether I needed a lift, a place to crash, medical bills paid or whatever, he’s always been there for me.
I take a breath. “Thank you, Jared, really.”
Jared shakes his head. “It’s nothing, Luke, seriously,” he says and I don’t know if he gets what I’m trying to say to him.
“Yeah it is, J, you’ve been a great friend to me you know, more like a brother actually.”
Jared smiles, before he starts frowning. “Dude, seriously.”
“What?”
“I’m in love with your sister.”
I actually start laughing, relieved as the tension starts to leave me. “Yeah alright, I get you, but you know what I mean.”
He slaps me on the back, half pushing me down the stairs now. “Yeah, yeah, I do and even though it’s totally fucking creepy, I do consider you to be like a brother too. But now,” he says, turning to look me in the eye. “We have a record to make, so let’s blow this fucking joint and go do that.”
“I completely agree,” I say as we get in the car and drive away. Drive away from my father for the last time.
Track 24 (A side) – It’s Not Over
Momentary thought
Imaginary creation
So much more than I expected
This unwelcome sedation
∞
When we get home from the studio, it’s late and I find Ash lying in bed reading. She looks up at me walking in and drops her book on the bed, half sitting up. I smile at her, as I kick off my shoes, pull off my clothes, and crawl up her body, wrapping my arms around her waist. As I lay my head on her chest, I can hear the steady beat of her heart, the heart that is so very precious to me. Her hand moves slowly back and forth over my head and I close my eyes as I sink into her touch and her warmth. This is what real love is.
Ash doesn’t say anything and I’m not sure how long we lie here for, but eventually I speak, “He actually apologised to me, eventually anyway.”
Her hand moves and brushes down the side of my face. “Did he mean it?” she asks.
I look up at her now, my chin resting on her chest and I know she can see in my eyes that he didn’t. Without having to say anything, she knows. But she doesn’t judge me, she just runs her fingers gently over my cheek reminding me of why it’s okay that I’m not okay with that.
“He wants me to forgive him,” I say, staring into her eyes.
“He isn’t worthy of your forgiveness, you know.”
I press a kiss to her chest, just above her heart before looking back up at her. “See, this is yet another reason why I love you so much.”
She smiles at me now and it takes some of his shit away. That a simple smile from her can do that is amazing. But I know it’s the love behind her smile that is the real reason. The love she has for me. The love I have for her in return.
“How’d it go today?” she asks. “Afterwards?”
I smile. “Really good, much better.”
Her fingers brush over my cheek again. “Well, at least something good came from it,” she says. “I’m really glad it helped, Luke, and I’m glad you went and talked to him. I think it’s what you needed to do.”
I’m staring at her, watching the way she looks at me. Once again I’m reminded that everything I went through, all the shit that’s happened to me, was for a reason. Because all of it brought me to this very place, right now, with her. And there is nowhere else I would rather be.
I pull myself up her body so I can press a kiss to her lips, my hand resting against the side of her neck. “I love you, Asha,” I whisper. “I love you more than anything else in the world. You are the only thing I need, as long as I have you, everything is good.”
She rests her forehead against mine, her fingers still softly moving across my cheek. “You and me, Luke, always.”
“Always,” I repeat before kissing her again.
I wake with a start, my heart racing as I try to work out where the fuck I am. The room is dark, I am completely naked, and there is someone lying beside me in the bed. Where the hell am I?
I swing my legs out and stand up, my eyes slowly adjusting as I try to find a light. When I can make out a lamp sitting on the table beside the bed, I switch it on and the now familiar room lights up. That’s when I realise.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my hand scraping across my face and head as I look down at Ash sleeping beside me. How the fuck did I not know it was her?
I glance down at myself, see the lines of tattoos on my skin, and I remember all that has happened. Why the hell did I think I was somewhere else? I left that life behind years ago.
“You okay?” Ash asks, her voice sleepy as she rolls over to face me. I watch as her eyes try to open, the dim light of the lamp making it difficult.
“Yeah, sorry, beautiful, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“What happened?” she asks, her eyes closing as she
pats the bed beside her, telling me to get back in. I reach down and switch the lamp off as I crawl back into bed. Ash slides over and wraps her arms around me and I start to feel my racing heart slow down.
“Luke?” she whispers in the darkness. “What happened?”
I run my hand over my head, wrapping my other arm around her waist as I pull her closer. “I don’t know, bad dream I think.”
“What was it about?” she asks. I can hear the worry in her voice and I know exactly what she’ll be thinking.
I try to remember, work out what it was that just woke me up. I don’t actually know, but I don’t think it was a nightmare of that night again. All I know is that when I woke up, I thought I was sixteen again and back in my parents’ house. Not twenty-eight and in L.A. with Asha, recording this album. Why the fuck would I even think I was back there? I never want to go back to that life.
“I don’t know, beautiful,” I tell her, because I really don’t.
“Was it about me, that night?” she asks and I feel her lips against my neck.
I tighten my arm around her. “No, it didn’t feel like one of those nightmares.” And it really didn’t. Those ones were all in blaring high definition, continuously played out and always remembered when I woke up. Never for one second letting me forget what happened that night, or what could have happened. But this one, this felt very different.
“Your heart is racing,” she says as she lays her hand flat against my chest.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “For a second there, when I woke up, I didn’t know where I was. Didn’t understand who was in bed with me.”
I feel Ash slide up my body, lifting her head so she can look down at me. Even in the darkness I see her eyes open and focus on mine. “Where did you think you were, or should’ve been anyway?” she whispers, breaking my heart a little because I think she might think it was without her.
I take a deep breath. “I don’t know why, but when I woke up, I thought I was back living with my parents. I thought I was sixteen again.”
