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Tears blurred my vision. I tried to blink them away, but a couple traitorous tears slipped down my cheeks, and I turned away. Embarrassment and shame riddled my body like a second skin. Dad and Pop had been so good to me. They had given me the chance at a future that I was currently tossing in the trash.
One of them squeezed my shoulder tightly. “Son.” Pop’s deep voice was soft and soothing. “You didn’t mess anything up. We’re incredibly proud of you and everything that you have achieved. You try to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You need to let it go. Let someone else carry that around.”
I tried to swallow around the lump in my throat. “Yeah, maybe.”
I was just so exhausted. I might have only been twenty-one years old, but my body ached in places it shouldn’t. I loved my career, but drumming hadn’t been kind to me. I wanted to climb into bed and sleep for the next week. Or month.
“Take some time off.” Dad forked his fingers through my hair. “We can fix the guesthouse up for you. Take all the time you need to rest and gather yourself together.”
“I agree, sweetheart. Andy should come home,” Pop murmured.
I had expected yelling. Shouts and screams about how horrible I was. That I had this huge opportunity land in my lap and was now ruining it. Not my fathers being so...understanding. I began to cry silently. I covered my face with the palms of both my hands, trying to keep it inside. And much to my surprise, they both wrapped their arms around and simply held me.
Loud, angry sobs ripped from my throat. Everything had been perfect and then I had to go and mess it all up. I broke up with Leo. I pretended to be someone I wasn’t because my brother said it was a good idea. I wasn’t that guy. I was just a guy who liked music and hockey. Who loved his boyfriend and his beautiful blue eyes. The sound of laughter and the way he smiled. The sweet scent of his skin.
“I...I want... Could you... Please.” I couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone was sitting on my chest and squeezing my lungs in a vise.
Dad scrambled around in front of me, his hands gripped my head. “Tell me three things you can see, kiddo.”
“You and Pop.” My body trembled. “The window.
Dad nodded. “What about three things you can hear?” He leaned his forehead against mine.
“The television in the living room.” The one Pop had on ESPN. “Your voice and mine.”
Dad gave me a tight smile. “And three things you can smell.”
My heart rate started to return to normal. “The roses on the counter.” I knew that Pop had bought those for Dad. They were arranged beautifully in the vase. “The laundry detergent you use. And the rink. Pop always smells like ice.”
“How do you feel now, Andy? Better?” Pop asked. He gripped the back of my neck gently.
I did feel better. “Where did you learn how to do that?” I asked.
“Therapy,” Dad answered and then crawled up into Pop’s lap as he sat down. He reached for my hand and linked our fingers together. “I think it’s time you think about talking to one of your own. Someone who can teach you what to do and not to do in a situation like that. And Leo.”
I hugged him, my arms wrapping around both my parents. “I think you’re right.” I didn’t want to talk to a stranger about my personal problems, but it had done a lot for Dad over the years.
“What kind of thoughts?” Dad’s voice was barely a whisper. “You said you were having horrible thoughts.”
Shit, I had hoped he hadn’t heard that one. I managed to take a deep breath and told them what I had yet to tell Leo.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Andy
I took a shaky breath, then slowly let it out. I trembled as I thought about what I was going to say to my parents. I glanced over to find Dad’s brows furrowed. His lips were pressed into a firm line, and his green eyes filled with worry. But it was Pop who broke me. The horror-filled look he wore on his face. His dark eyes shimmered with unshed tears. He reached over to gently squeeze my shoulder.
“We love you, Andy. So much. Whatever you need, we’re here for you. You know that we would never judge you.” Pop didn’t let go of me, even when I leaned forward and hugged them both. His hand was still secure, comforting me.
Dad’s finger combed through my hair. “It’s okay, kiddo. It’s okay.”
“I feel like I’m screaming, and no one can hear me that,” I confessed. “That I’m clawing at the walls of a house that has no doors or windows. There’s no escape, and I’m going to suffocate because I can’t breathe.” I pulled back, surprised to find wetness on my face. “I want to die. I want to rid the world of my useless body so everyone can carry on without me. Everyone would be so much better if I wasn’t here to fuck it up. Leo wouldn’t have had to go through the shit I put him through. You’d have the perfect son. The twins and Lucas, the perfect brother. Because that’s not me. It’s never going to me. I can’t be that person. I’m too screwed up.”
Dad shook his head as fat tears slipped down his cheeks. “Is that what you think we want? Did we pressure you into doing something you didn’t want to do? Andy, baby, we don’t care if you’re not a huge superstar. You could be anything you wanted,and we’d still love you. We only want you to be happy. Why aren’t you happy?”
“I don’t know!” I screamed. I jumped to my feet. “I don’t know why I’m not happy! I don’t know why I think about swallowing a bottle of sleeping pills or jumping off a bridge. But I do. Maybe slitting my wrists in a bathtub would be the way to go. Or walking in front of a bus. Anything to make all this fucking pain go away.”
A soft sob had me turning back to my parents. I expected it to be Dad, and yeah, he was upset, but it was Pop who was crying, his face buried in Dad’s snow-white hair. He shook his head, burying close to Dad, and I crumbled to the floor. I had seen Pop cry only a few times. When I graduated high school, when I left for the first official Princess Bungalow tour, and when I called him Pop for the first time. But right now, his shoulders shook, his arms wrapped tightly around Dad, and it broke my heart.
