A Broken Soul(37)

I'd just taken a swallow of my beer when he blurted that out, and I proceeded to choke on it. At least he wasn't bringing up the song. Once I stopped sputtering and was able to breathe again, I managed to croak, "What?"

Dad gave me a knowing look. "Please, son. I'm old, not stupid. I'm also not blind."

"Dad … " I shook my head, dropped my feet to the carpet and sat up. "It's not like that."

His face grew serious as he turned to face me fully, completely forgetting all about the game. "Not like what, exactly?"

I started to feel defensive for some insane reason. It was hard enough trying to battle my feelings. Having someone else reaffirm them only set me further on edge. I stood from the couch and began pacing. "There's nothing between us," I insisted, even though the lie left a sour taste on my tongue. There was something between us, something intense and frightening. I could deny it to myself all damn day, but putting a voice to that denial just felt …  wrong. Almost as wrong as having those feelings in the first goddamned place.

Dad stood tall as well and stepped in front of me, forcing me to stop. "Quinn, do you even realize that Sophia's birthday party was the first time any of us have heard you laugh in over three years?"

"That's ridiculous," I sneered, turning on my heels in the direction of the kitchen.

"It's true!" Dad grabbed hold of my shoulder, thwarting my pathetic attempt to escape.

"Jesus, Dad. I laugh all the fucking time."



       
         
       
        

"Not like that. Not genuinely. That laugh came from deep in your gut. So fucking unexpected it scared your mom and me."

Tension coiled inside me so tightly I thought I might snap. "Stop," I snarled, jerking from my father's hold. But he wasn't done.

"And all it took was a few words from that girl to get you to let go and laugh. That means something, son."

"Stop!"

"You deserve happiness. You've been walking around, half a man since Addy died. Watching you with Lilly, I saw flashes of the man my son used to be. I miss that man."

"I said stop!" I roared, so loud Dad took a step back.

His voice lowered, his expression grew pained. "What are you so scared of?"

With that one simple question, asked by the man I respected most in the entire world, that coil inside me broke. "It's wrong!" I shouted, unable to hold it in anymore. "It's fucking wrong! I don't deserve that, no matter what you or Mom think. It's my fault Addy died. Mine. If it wasn't for me, she'd still be alive. I had happiness once, and I fucking killed it, okay? So just drop it! It doesn't matter what you think you saw between me and Lilly, because nothing's ever going to come of it. The man I was, the man you miss, died with Addy in that car. Just let it go, Dad. Let it fucking go."

In all my life, I'd only seen my father cry two times. The first time was when I woke up in the hospital room after the accident. The second time was during my wife's funeral. He'd never really been the type to cry. He was the strongest man I'd ever met. But as he stood there, watching me unravel again, his eyes grew glassy.

"Oh, son," he whispered, his voice ravaged with heartache that only made my own that much worse. "That's not true."

"It is!" I demanded, raking my hands threw my hair in agony. "It is. I killed her, Dad. It was my fault."

His expression grew fierce as he charged me, grabbing hold of my shoulders and giving them a rough shake. "It was an accident. You hear me? An accident. You aren't to blame for Addy's death."

"If I'd been paying attention-"

He cut me off. "The events of that night were a tragedy, but it was not your fault. You can spend the rest of your life analyzing every single second, wondering how you could have reacted differently, but there is no way you could guarantee the outcome would have been any different. You can't walk around blaming yourself for something that was beyond your control, Quinn. That's no way to live."

"Dad … " my voice was like gravel. It physically hurt to force the words from my throat. "You don't understand … " 

"You're right," he whispered. "I don't. And it kills me a little more every single day to see you suffering this way. I wish I could undo it all. I wish I could take this pain for you, but I can't, and I pray to God you never have to experience what it's like to feel so goddamned helpless when it comes to your own child. If I could carry this burden for you, I would, in a heartbeat." He gave me another shake as he repeated, "That accident was not your fault. You can't spend the rest of your life punishing yourself."