Xavier's POV
'Fuck this shit.'
Dad stood up, dropping her wet clothes to the tile floor with a slap that sounded like a gunshot. In that moment, Mom finally saw it. She thought she was the only one drowning in pain. She was wrong.
The look on his face when she said she regretted meeting him wasn't just anger. It was pure, undiluted hatred. The heart-stabbing, vicious kind.
He stalked into the bathroom. I heard the violent rip of his soaked suit being torn off and thrown to the floor. His breathing was ragged, labored. Then the shower kicked on.
And for the first time in my eighteen years, I heard my father cry.
The water muffled it, but the sound was unmistakable. A raw, guttural sobbing he'd been holding back until she finally shoved him over the edge.
I fled to my room. There was nothing I could do. No words to fix it.
We never spoke about that day. Weeks later, it was like a bad dream. Except Dad had become a perfect, polite stranger. He looked at Mom with courteous eyes and a tight, lifeless smile. I hated it. I wished he'd scream, break something—anything but this cold, arm's-length distance he kept from her. From all of us.
I could tell Miracle she broke his heart so completely, he became cautious around his own children.
I almost quit school just to stay home and stop my parents from becoming roommates.
The day I moved back from the dorms, we faked it. Laughed and teased like a family on the drive home. But the second I got out of the car, the silence between them was suffocating.
Dad played music. Mom stared out the window.
Finally, she cracked. "What would you like for dinner?"
"We always have pasta on Fridays." His voice was flat.
"I know. I'm sorry. I just… wanted to break the silence."
"How's the blog?" he asked, a hollow attempt.
"It's been a while. Apparently, I have nothing to say."
"Just give it time. You're Emily. With writing, you're a force to be reckoned with."
A real smile touched her lips. His mirrored it. The first genuine one in weeks.
"Are we okay?" she asked, her voice small.
"What do you mean?"
"We haven't talked about… what happened."
"Nothing to talk about."
"I am so sorry. There's no justification for what I said."
"The truth always comes out when we're angry, Emily."
"No. I didn't mean it. How could I? You are my life."
I held my breath behind the door, praying.
"You're not the woman I married. Not anymore."
The words were a death sentence. I didn't blame him.
"Please don't say that," she whispered, her voice thick.
"God knows I'm crazy about you," he said, and for a second, hope flickered in her eyes. Then he killed it. "But I also hate you."
He got out of the car and slammed the door so hard the frame shook. A shocked Mom followed.
"Waylen—"
"No! You don't get to look shocked. I hate you for making me question my love for my daughter. I hate you for thinking our marriage was a mistake when it's the best thing that ever happened to me. And I hate you for making me capable of hating you!"
"I'm sorry!" she was crying now.
"I hate you so damn much! But I'm not built to hate you, Emily! Can't you see that? I hate that I hate you because I love you! I'm hurting so much, and I can't even go to the woman I love because she thinks I'm the monster who drove our daughter away!"
"I don't hate you! I could never! She left and I felt so alone, Waylen. It was too much!"
He moved closer, his hand cupping her face, his anger dissolving into agony. "You're not alone. My heart is broken. A piece of me is missing, and I have no idea where she is or if I'll ever see her again. But I can't fall apart. I have two kids here who need me. So you figure your shit out. Decide if you want to keep using me as your punching bag, because I'm done. I'm done."
He turned to walk inside.
Say something, Mom. Come on, damn it!
"Waylen…"
He stopped. "Yes?"
"I love you."
"I love you too. I'm sorry I yelled." He closed the distance in two steps and pulled her into his arms.
Those were my parents.
·
I looked at Miracle. At her split lip and the bandage on her head. The ghost of the vibrant, headstrong sister I knew.
Steve did this. He hollowed her out.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
She blinked, her big eyes trying to hide a world of hurt. "Why are you sorry, Xav?"
"Because I can't let you be the thing that breaks them. Not again. Not ever. So I'm making this decision for them."
"I won't! I swear! I just want to go home!" She grabbed my hand, her grip desperate.
She was my better half. And I was about to throw her into the deep end without a life jacket.
"We're here, Sis," I said, staring straight ahead. If I looked at her, I'd lose my nerve.
"Where is 'here,' Xav?" Confusion. Fear.
"Recruitment center. You get on a bus. In six months, you get off. You'll either be fixed, or you'll be someone new who can handle being fixed."
She just blinked, lost. "What's going on?"
I took a breath. "I… I signed you up. For the military. Your bus leaves in an hour."