Chapter Thirty-Six

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Milo

“So you’re the guy who broke my daughter’s heart?”

It was early morning, before sunrise. I stood in my driveway when I saw a tall, buff man covered in tattoos staring my way. He wore black sunglasses, and the moment he took them off, I knew he was Starlet’s father. They had the same eyes.

My stomach knotted up as he walked toward me. There was no doubt he could whoop my ass with a single punch based on the size of his biceps alone. The stern look on his face, paired with his grimace, almost made me want to break out into a sprint. I didn’t run, though. If anything, I deserved what he was about to lay on me.

“Yes, sir,” I replied. “If it’s any consolation, I broke my own in the process.”

I doubted that took away from the fact that I still broke Starlet’s heart.

“I’m Eric,” he stated, walking toward me. He unbuttoned his long sleeves and rolled them up his arms. I didn’t even know forearms could be solid muscle. What did this guy eat for a living? Whole chickens? “And you’re Milo, huh?”

“That’s me,” I replied, trying not to sound intimidated.

“Where are you heading?”

“I was just going to go sit by this pond my parents and I used to fish at.”

Eric narrowed his eyes. “Is your dad still in rehab?”

I nodded, feeling a knot in my gut. “Yeah. For a few more weeks.”

“How is it going for him?”

I shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. I’m just happy he’s getting the help he needs.”

“Good. I’m glad. Life is tough. It takes courage to ask for help.” He glanced around and then met my stare again. “You want a ride to the lake?”

“Oh no, it’s not that far and—”

“Milo.” He cut in and stepped closer. “Do you want a ride to the lake?”

I guessed it wasn’t a question as much as it was an order. My palms were sweating, and I was almost certain I was seconds away from pissing my pants. “All right, thanks.” I climbed into the passenger seat of his car and closed the door gently. The last thing I was going to do was slam the door of a man who could snap me in half with one stern look.

Eric climbed into the driver’s seat and asked for directions to said pond. I told him, and within a few minutes, we were parked and walking out to sit on one of the benches. A good amount of time passed without us exchanging words. I didn’t know if I should’ve felt comfort or unease, yet somehow, I felt a wave of both things as I sat beside Eric.

When I finally found enough courage, I said, “I’m sorry about what happened with Starlet.”

Eric kept staring out at the iced-over lake. “Which part are you sorry for?”

“What?”

“What I mean is, which part are you apologizing for? Are you sorry for falling for my daughter?”

“No. Of course not.” That was the best thing that ever happened to me. I honestly didn’t think I would’ve been able to keep going on with life over the past few months if it wasn’t for Starlet entering my life. I’d never apologize for how I felt for her.

“Are you apologizing for ending things with her?”

I hesitated at that question. I was sorry that things ended, of course, but I didn’t regret my decision. That was what hurt the most, I thought. I ended things because I wasn’t going to be able to give her the kind of love she deserved. I felt my depression settling in more lately, especially with my recent health issues and Dad being in rehab. I wouldn’t be able to be the person for her in the way I’d want to be. She’d already lost her position at the high school and was spending more time with me than she should’ve. I couldn’t be the one to ruin her life.

“No,” I whispered. “I’m not apologizing for that.”

“Then what is the apology for?”

“Her teaching at the high school. It’s my fault she was let go from that. I feel awful about it.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “That.” He picked up a small rock and tossed it at the pond, hitting the ice. It cracked slightly. “Did you know that Starlet’s mother was a teacher?”

I nodded. “She’d mentioned it during our talks.”

He clasped his hands together and rested them in his lap. “Yeah. She was an English teacher. One of the best ones out there, though I might be biased. Do you know what Starlet wanted to be before her mother passed away?”

“What’s that?”

“Anything but a teacher.” He glanced my way before picking up another rock and tossing it toward the water. Another crack was created. “Her whole life, Star has done the right thing. She never spoke back to me. She always did her chores and excelled at school. She doesn’t even cuss.”

“Yeah, I kind of make fun of her because of that.”

“You and me both.” He chuckled before growing somber. “When her mother passed away, she followed in her footsteps and decided she wanted to be a teacher. For a long time, I wondered if that was what she truly wanted or if she felt it was a way to hold onto her mother.”

“She’s a great teacher.”

“Of course she is. She’s a great everything. I could not have dreamed of a better child. She’s done everything right for twenty-one years. And then came you.”

“I feel shitty about it.”

“Don’t,” he said. “I’m thankful for you.”

I arched my eyebrow, confused by his words. He gave a slight grin and threw another rock. Another crack.

“Just because a person always does the right thing, doesn’t mean it’s the right thing for them. The last time I saw my daughter break down was when we lost Rosa. That was until she showed up at my house completely heartbroken after you ended things with her.”

That made me feel like utter shit.

“Thank you for that,” Eric said. “For making her break.”

“Why do you say that?”

“My daughter has been a perfectionist her whole life. Even more so after Rosa passed, and that scared me a bit. I believe we don’t need to live a perfect life to be happy. We only have to live a real one. We aren’t searching for perfection…we are searching for truth. You, Milo, have made Starlet finally reveal her reality. And even though it hurts right now, I know she’ll be able to grow from this. So I thank you.”

I picked up a rock and tossed it into the water.

Crack.

I picked up another and threw it again.

Crack, crack.

“I love her,” I confessed.

“Yes,” he acknowledged. “Kind of hard not to.”

“Can I ask why you came to meet with me, though? Especially since Starlet and I ended things.”

He smiled before clearing his throat. “Because when she fell apart, she told me you would come and sit here to think a lot since your mom passed away, and she was nervous that you’d have to sit alone while you’re going through everything you’re going through. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want you to have to sit alone.”

Well, shit.

What a good person.

“I see where Star gets her heart from,” I told him.

“Nah. She got that from her mother.” He waved me off. “But her good looks? I like to take credit for that.”

I snickered a bit before growing quieter. Even during Starlet’s heartbreak, she was worried about me. I didn’t know love for a person could keep growing, even when you were separated from them. It felt unfair because I knew what was about to happen to me. I would spend the remainder of my life falling in love with Starlet Evans, even if I never saw her again.

I wasn’t yet certain if that was a blessing or a curse.

“I’m sorry about everything you’re going through, Milo.”

I stared down at my hands clasped together. “How did you do it?” I asked. My voice was shaky and timid. “How did you get over losing your wife?”

Eric’s brows knitted together. He rubbed his right hand against the back of his neck and contemplated my question for a moment. “You don’t get over it,” he started. “You get under it.” I raised an eyebrow, confused by the answer, so he continued. “You get under the grief, you feel the pressure, and you begin to drown in the sadness. People say to do things and put yourself back out there into the world, but I think that’s bullshit. You can’t outwork grief. Sometimes healing comes from the allowance of darkness.”

“The allowance of darkness?”

“Yes. Think of grief as a beast. A strong, big animal that you think you’re supposed to defeat. So you fight against it, push and pull to try to regain some normalcy back in your world. Because that’s the messed-up part, right? Everyone else around you will move on a lot faster than you. Everyone else will smile when they think of the person while you still want to cry. Everyone goes back to their mundane everyday lives as if the person who passed was never there, to begin with. They are able to do it so effortlessly, too, because the person who passed wasn’t their person. The person who passed was yours. They were your heartbeats, and it feels like they were robbed from you. You’re angry and pissed that everyone around you gets to move on while you’re still drowning. So you try to act like them and fight grief. You push against it. You kick, you scream, you punch, and you fight until all you have left is depression.”

Yes.

That’s it…

Every word he said rang true. It was as if he crawled into my mind and read my list of greatest fears.

I lowered my head.

I felt Eric’s eyes on me. His stare didn’t feel judgmental, though. It felt familiar, as if he were staring at a person he once used to be. “Are you depressed, Milo?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay,” he said. “Now, sit with it. Stop fighting.”

I glanced up as I fidgeted with my hands. “What do you mean?”

“You asked me how to get over losing a person, and I said you don’t get over it. You get under it. That means instead of fighting the monster, you sit with it. You invite it to join you for tea. You mourn, cry, and scream but don’t fight it. You don’t swing. You drown in it for a while and allow your emotions to take over. You don’t shut off your feelings. You dig deeper into them. You keep going, too, because your loved one wouldn’t want you to stop. The only thing more terrifying than feeling all your feelings is feeling absolutely nothing at all. Trust me. I know.”

“What if it becomes too much? What if I can’t get out of the water?”

“Don’t worry,” Eric calmly stated. “You’ll grow gills.”

Don’t get over it. Get under it.

“I feel as if I’m not only grieving my mom but my dad, too, even though he’s still living,” I said.

“That’s the thing about grief. Sometimes, the worst cases of it are when it’s dealing with those who are still breathing. You’ll get through this. I hope you both do and end up with a stronger bond.”

“Thank you, Eric.”

“Let me make sure I’m getting everything straight. You’re figuring out your life, yet pushing Starlet away because you think it’s the right, noble thing to do.”

“I can’t be what she needs or what she deserves. I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve her care for me or her love. I’m depressed.” Saying those two words almost made me choke. It was the first time I’d expressed the truth behind what I was dealing with. It was the first time I said it out loud. Something about hearing it vocalized from my own mouth felt raw.

“Yes,” he agreed. “You are. But let me ask you a question. Who told you that those who are depressed are not deserving of love?”

Me.

My mind.

My thoughts.

He tapped the side of his head. “Every thought that comes in here, young man, is not an honest one. Learn to filter out the bullshit, even if it’s loud. You deserve to be loved. The truth of the matter is we’re all a little broken. We’re all a little cracked. But those cracks are what make us who we are. And every shattered person is still worthy of love. Maybe even more so than others.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Now, don’t get me wrong. I find it noble that you stepped away from my daughter while you figure out your stuff and allowing her to figure out hers. You can’t pour from an empty glass, and while Starlet might not understand that right now, as she’s hurting, it’s the best choice for you both. But do one thing for me.”

“Sure, anything.”

“Hold onto your love for her and her love for you, even from a distance. Starlet’s love got me through my heartbreak from losing my wife. Her love is what saved me, even when I was sometimes distant. Use that love, that feeling, to help you through the currents of your grief. Then once you begin to swim again—and you will, Milo—swim home to her.”

“What if I’m too late?”

“That’s possible, but what if you’re right on time? That’s the scariest thing about life—it makes no promises. But do you know the most exciting thing about life?”

“What’s that?”

“It makes no promises.”

Eric smiled, a smile that mimicked hers. I wondered how much of his daughter lived in his face and how much of Starlet lived within her mother’s.

We finished our talk, and he drove me back to my place. As he parked the car in the driveway, he said, “I think I’m going to visit that lake on Friday mornings if that’s okay with you. I liked the view.”

“That’s fine by me.”

“And bring your backpack. I might not be the best tutor, but I’m damn sure I can help you out with a few equations to get you to graduation.”

I gave him a half grin. “Thanks, Eric.”

“Welcome. And, Milo?”

“Yes?”

“Swim.”