I Love You, Always (18 page)

My regrets and mistakes

They were always mine to be made

Because they shaped the man who was never your creation

And I’ll wear my scars with fierce determination

∞

“You doing okay?” Ash asks, sliding into bed beside me.

I roll over and face her, both of us lying on our sides, our heads sharing a pillow. “Yeah, I think so,” I say, not really sure that I am. I can’t believe how quickly today went from amazing, to complete shit. How quickly it all changed. So much for thinking everything was perfect.

Her hand reaches out and lightly brushes over the top of my head and my eyes close at her touch. “You’re not curious about what he wanted?”

I take a deep breath, my eyes opening. “Yeah, I guess a little,” I admit. “I mean there’s a part of me that wonders why he’s suddenly shown up now. It’s weird.”

She smiles at me and I slide my arm around her waist, pull her closer. “He has no control over you anymore,” she whispers.

“No,” I say. “I know he doesn’t and I think he knows that too. What happened last time, it…” I trail off as Ash’s fingers lightly brush over the scar I still have. It actually makes me smile as I realise we both have our battle scars. Marks inflicted on us by others, but which represent both our worst nightmares and also our greatest strength. Asha used to think she was responsible for the deaths of all the people she loved. When she made her choice to stop that, she took a bullet for me, saving my life. The scar she has because of it represents that, but it also represents the fact that Ash now fights for the life she wants, which is a life free from the fear of losing the people she loves.

I got my scar from my father, also my worst nightmare. But I got this scar because, for the first time in my life, I stood up to the man who had always controlled me. I stood up to him and I said no and I refused to back down, no matter what he did to me in response. My scar is a reminder that no one will ever control me like he once did.

“What happened last time was awful,” Ash says, her fingers still brushing over my scar.

I smile at her, my hand sliding to the scar on her hip as I lightly stoke my thumb over it. “I know, beautiful, but it’s not going to happen again,” I whisper. “I’m done with that man. I’m done with thinking about him, listening to him, or giving him any more of my time.”

She smiles back at me now. “Good,” she whispers, leaning in to kiss me. “You don’t need him in your life anymore.”

I lean forward, pushing her back on to the bed so I can roll on top of her. “I know I don’t,” I say, my lips against hers. “But I do need you, Asha.” I feel her smile against my mouth as her hand slides around to the back of my neck, holding me against her. This is what’s important in my life now. Not him, not whatever he came here to talk to me about. The only thing I care about is this woman lying beneath me, the other people in this house, and getting this album done so we can get the fuck out of this city.

That’s it.

“Luke,” Ash murmurs, still kissing me. “You’ll talk to me if you’re not okay, won’t you?”

I pull back a
little,
see the worry in her eyes as she looks back at me. Brushing the hair back from her face, I cup her cheek with my hand. “I’m okay, Asha,” I whisper.

“Promise?”

I lean in and kiss her lips again, silencing any more conversation between us. I don’t know if I can make that promise.

It used to be nightmares of what happened to Ash that woke me up in the middle of the night, but now it’s thoughts of my father that stop me from even going to sleep. When I lived at home I always slept badly, but the minute I left, that changed. It was as though getting away from him and this fucking city lifted whatever burden it was that caused my insomnia. It was a relief when I could finally sleep through the night. But like a fist to the face, his return has brought back my insomnia and I once more find myself lying in the dark, staring up at the ceiling and remembering all of the shit I used to put up with.

Asha is asleep beside me. A part of me wants to wake her up and talk, but I don’t. I know I should, it’s what she asked me to do, what she wanted me to promise I would do. But she needs to sleep because we always go to bed so late and even
then,
neither of us goes to sleep for ages. And really, I don’t know what the fuck I would say to her anyway. I’m not entirely sure what’s stopping me from going to sleep now.
It’s
like one visit from him has undone years of relief at being away from him and I’m not really sure how I am supposed to deal with that. Or explain it. But, I do know I can’t lie here staring at the ceiling anymore. I’m restless and I’m going to wake her up in a minute.

I slowly slide out of bed, careful not to wake Ash as I unwrap her arm from my waist. Pulling on a pair of sweats, I quietly open the door and head downstairs. The house is in darkness, everyone obviously sleeping. I walk into the kitchen and grab a glass, filling it with water and drinking it in one hit. Taking a seat at the counter, I rest my head in my hands and wonder what the fuck I am supposed to do with the fact that my father has found me, again. And what the hell his visit was really about.

“You look like you need a drink.”

I look up to see Pete walking into the kitchen. Glancing at the clock on the microwave, I see it’s after three in the morning. I’ve only been sitting down here for ten minutes.

“Yeah, possibly,” I answer as he reaches into the fridge, grabs some beers and hands me one. He takes a seat on the counter across from me, twisting the cap off his own beer and throwing it into the sink. “Can’t sleep?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Never really can. You either, huh?”

I shake my head, running my hand over it at the same time. “No,” I say shrugging. “I used to be able to, once I got away from this place. But apparently not anymore.”

“Sure it’s this place?” Pete asks, causing me to look up. “Might have more to do with the fact that he showed up today.” I shrug, knowing it’s probably a combination of the two. The two things always went hand in hand anyway, and together they only seem to magnify the problem. “Were you sleeping alright before he did show?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I admit. “I mean, since we’ve been here, I’ve been sleeping okay.”

“There’s your answer then,” Pete says, taking another sip of his drink.

“Fuck,” I breathe out, as my head falls into my hands. I know he’s right. This place has nothing to do with it. It’s all him, it always has been. When he’s out of my life I’m fine, but now that he’s back, I’m clearly fucking not. “I thought telling him to fuck off would stop all of this…” I trail off, waving my hand around the room as though that will explain what I mean.

“Shit?” Pete suggests.

I lift my head and look at Pete who’s staring at me as though it’s all so obvious. “Yeah, shit,” I say, taking another sip of my drink.

“I’m thinking it’s probably had the opposite effect,” Pete says. “And that none of this is going to get better anytime soon.”

My fingers are picking at the label on my bottle, tiny pieces of shredded paper falling onto the kitchen counter, which I push into a pile. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I eventually admit.

“Which means you’re going to need to find some way to deal with it,” Pete says. “Before it eats you alive, Luke.”

I run my hand over my head, down my face, knowing he’s right, but having no clue as to how I’m supposed to do that. “Yeah.”

“And you should be talking to her about this too,” he says, gesturing behind me with his beer bottle.

I turn and see Ash walking towards us, her hair a mess and her eyes still half asleep. “Hey,” I whisper as I slide my arm around her waist and pull her against me. “Sorry if I woke you.”

She buries her face in my neck but I still hear her whispered, “You were supposed to.”

I squeeze my arm tighter, letting her know that not only do I know this,
but
that I’m not trying to shut her out her either. Glancing up at Pete, I see him watching us, taking all of it in.

“You can’t pick your family, Luke,” he says to both of us. “But you can pick this,” he adds, nodding at Ash.

I take a sip of beer. “I know,” I say. “But I don’t really consider him to be family anyway, not anymore.”

“He’s still your dad you know, whether you want him to be or not.”

I take a good look at Pete sitting on the kitchen counter. He’s sipping on a beer, wearing nothing but boxer shorts. He’s covered in tattoos, they’re everywhere, all over his chest and back, down both arms, and he’s pierced in both nipples and God knows where else. He looks like he should be one thing, but I know from years of friendship, he is the complete opposite to every stereotype you’d label him with. He is nothing what anyone in the street would peg him to be. I bet if even half of them got a look at what was underneath, they’d be shocked.

He’s a fucking good guy though, always has been. He’s also never met my dad and he’s never going to, but I do know what he’s trying to tell me. I exhale loudly, taking another sip of my beer. “Maybe, but it’s only by blood and really, I don’t consider him to be my father, not after what he did to me.” I feel Ash’s lips against my neck now and I pull her onto my lap, glad she’s here and hearing all of this.

“Do you hate him then?” Pete asks, genuinely curious.

I down the rest of my beer and watch as Pete
jumps
off the counter and grabs three more from the fridge. “Yeah, at times I do. But most of the time, I just wish he’d disappear from my life for good.” I take the beer Pete hands me, glancing down at Ash, as she takes the one offered to her.

“He’s not a part of your life now, Luke,” she says, before taking a sip. “You don’t have to let him be a part of it you know.”

“Yeah, I know, beautiful,” I whisper, glancing back at Pete again. He’s looking at me in a way that suggests what I’m saying is crazy. “What?” I ask him. “It’s not like you get along with your dad.”

Pete finishes off his first beer before opening his second. “No, it’s true, I don’t.”

“So how can you live with that, seriously? Why the fuck do you even keep trying with him when he so obviously disapproves of everything you do?”

“And everyone,” Pete says with a touch of bitterness.

I watch as he sits back on the counter, pulling one foot onto it. I know he won’t mind these questions, because it’s not the first time any of us have ever brought them up with him. We all know Pete’s dad hates his lifestyle. He hates the fact he’s gay and he hates his relationship with Steve, even though they have been together for five years now. He hates all the tatts and he especially hates the fact that Pete has quit his job and moved to L.A. to be with Steve. I have no idea why he would even bother speaking to a man who treated him like that. No fucking idea.

“Pete?”

I watch as he takes a long sip of his beer before turning to me and saying, “Because at the end of the day, he’s still my dad.”

Ash exhales loudly against me and when I glance down, she’s staring at Pete. “Yeah, sure,” I say, wishing I’d never brought this up. “But he hates who you are, how can you be okay with that? How can you be okay with your own father not liking who you really are?”

“I’m not,” he says seriously.

“Then why do you fucking bother, Pete?” I ask, confused.

I watch as Pete jumps off the counter now and walks around to where we are sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter. He takes a seat beside us, turning so he faces me. “Because, Luke, I am who I am anyway. If he doesn’t like that, it’s his problem, not mine. But I’m still being me and he is still my dad.”

I shake my head, unable to comprehend how he can be so okay with that. “That doesn’t make any sense to me,” I murmur.

Pete starts peeling the label off his bottle. “Maybe not, but I’m not changing who I am, so I can’t really expect my dad to change who he is either.”

“But doesn’t it hurt,” I say, turning to face him. “Doesn’t it hurt the way he treats you, what he thinks of you? What he thinks of Steve?”

Pete takes another long sip of his beer before he turns to face me. “More than you can imagine.”

The three of us drink in silence now, none of us quite knowing what to say anymore. I don’t know how Pete lives the way he does, having a father who so obviously disapproves, but not just that, who doesn’t hide it either. I’ve heard about the things he says, the things he does. I even met him once and it was written all over his face, anyone could see it. But still, Pete keeps trying with him. I know he’s invited him out to L.A. for our show at the end of this and I just don’t get it. I can’t help but wonder what Steve thinks about it all. I know Ash would support any decision I made, that she would back me every time, and I guess it’s the same with Steve, regardless of whether he understands it. But then Ash had a father who adored her and Steve’s is totally cool with everything, including Pete. So for them, it’s very different.

“Well, I’m going back to bed,” Pete suddenly says.

I watch as he dumps his beer in the trash and starts to walk out of the kitchen. “Pete?” Ash says as he walks past us.

“Yeah,” he answers.

She smiles at him as she reaches out and grabs his hand. “You know you have a family here who loves you, right?”