He tosses his arm up in the air. “Of course I love you.” He looks away, dismissing the proclamation as quickly as he made it.
“Do you?” I ask, walking up to him and squatting in front of him. “Do you really love me? Or do you still blame me for Callum dying?”
He looks down at his lap, and his shoulders sag, as if the question has completely defeated him.
“I’m angry about Callum dying.” He looks up and meets my gaze. “I could have lost both of you that day.”
I lean back, blinking as I catch the tears brimming in his eyes.
“Every time I think about it, I get furious.” His fist tightens, and he tenses before falling into a coughing fit. Maw places her hand on his back and offers him his water. He takes a few sips and then meets my eyes again. “His death could have been avoided if you’d used your goddamn brains. If it were you who were dead and Callum who was alive, I would have treated him the same way. The choices you two made together just about wrecked your mother. You put a hole in my heart, and then filled it with worry. Worry that instead of losing one son, I could have lost two.” He pinches his brow and slowly rests his head against the chair.
“Da, I . . . I had no idea. I thought—”
“I know what you thought. And it might have been my fault for never correcting your way of thinking, but goddamn it, I’m still furious about it. And I’ll be furious until the day I die. Careless behavior with no thought for the people who love you.”
“Da.” I reach up and slip my hand in his. He squeezes it tightly and, to my surprise, brings it to his mouth, kissing the back of my knuckles and then holding them close to his cheek.
He lets out a strangled sob, and that’s all it takes. I break down as well, moving as close to him as I can.
“I could have lost both of you.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, bringing my forehead to his. I grip the nape of his neck and hold him there, not wanting to let go, not ever wanting to let go. “I’m so sorry, Da.”
“I love you, Rowan.”
I let out a sob, and tears stream down my cheeks. “I love you too, Da.”
“Here, Da.” I place a bowl of soup in front of him and adjust the cardigan across his back, noticing how I can feel every bone in his shoulders. “Do you have everything you need, Maw?”
She nods quietly and sips from her bowl of soup.
Once they’re taken care of, I take a seat as well, and quietly we all tuck in. Together.
The last few hours have been mentally exhausting. We cried for a good hour.
Cried over the loss of time.
The loss of Callum.
The loss of a relationship with my da.
The loss of those little, boring moments that make up a life.
The end is near. It’s thick in the air, chilling and heartbreaking.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “How much time is left?”
Da doesn’t look up at me, and neither does Maw. Instead they keep their eyes on their bowls, but I watch as my da slowly reaches over and takes Maw’s hand in his. Her lip quivers, and a tear falls into her soup bowl.
“It’s not good,” Da says.
“I want to know. Don’t hide it from me. Please don’t hide it from me anymore.”
Da slowly nods and looks me in the eyes. “It’s stage-four chondrosarcoma. There’s nothing they can do at this point. They offered a treatment plan to prolong life expectancy.”
“Then let’s do that,” I say quickly. “What does it entail?”
Da shakes his head. “It’s no way to live, son. I would have to stay here in London, it would cost more than I’m willing to pay, and I would be miserable—for what? A few more months?”
“Yes,” I say, my voice panicky. “Yes, Da, a few more months. Months I haven’t had with you. Months I need with you.”
His weathered eyes connect with mine. “Rowan, I don’t want to be in London. I want to be in Corsekelly, in my home, with the ones I love. And you can’t stay here either. The town needs you. Your maw needs the town for support.”
“But . . . but what about the time we’ve lost? What about—？”
“Whatever time I have left is yours, Rowan.”
“How much time?” I ask, voice wavering, my throat tightening.
He closes his eyes. “A month . . . maybe.”
“A month?” I nearly choke on my words. “How long if you do the treatment?”
“Three, maybe. But it’s not a promise, and I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my days in and out of hospital, being pumped with chemo. I’d rather spend it in the place I love, with the people I love.”