Page 113 of The Man I Hate

Hap pierced a potato and paused. He lifted his chin and looked right at me. “You end up with this shit, Son?”

“What shit?” I asked, although I knew exactly what he wanted to know.

“The virus.” He poked the spud in his mouth. “Did you have it?”

I set my fork aside. Out of my peripheral I noticed Anna stopped chewing. I wiped my hands on my napkin and set it aside.

“I did,” I said.

“Serves you right.” He swallowed. He poked another potato. “You’re an inconsiderate prick on a good day.”

It went better than I expected. “You’re right,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry don’t cut it on a deal like this,” he said. “Being selfish almost cost my life, and yours, too. Life isn’t just about you, Son. There’s two people at this table that you need to be worried about other than yourself. In fact, right now? There’s a whole nation of people you ought to be considering.”

“You’re right,” I said. “I was inconsiderate.”

“There comes a point in time in a man’s life when he’s got to take a good hard look at himself, and at his life,” he said. “I’m of the opinion you’re at that point.”

I’d managed to reach that place when I was sick. When I finally crawled out of bed, it dawned on me that the lifetime I had left to live was going to be miserable if I continued in the same fashion.

“I think I was there two weeks or so ago, when I woke up from being sick. I’d been battling nightmares for a week straight. When my fever broke, I realized a lot of things.”

He leaned his fork against the edge of his plate. “When you took a look at yourself, what did you see?”

“A selfish prick.”

“Are you saying that to satisfy me, or because you believe it?”

I hated to admit it, but it was true. I hadn’t just been selfish when it came to the virus, I’d been selfish my entire life. It was easy to see, all I had to do was take a look at the highlights.

Devoting my life to the military while being married to a woman who never got the opportunity to see her husband.

Leaving my father alone following the death of my mother by volunteering to be overseas for years after my obligatory 15-month combat tour.

Depriving my father of a grandchild because I’d rather spare myself potential heartache than take a chance with a relationship.

“Because it’s true,” I said. “I’ve been a selfish prick.”

He tilted his head toward Anna. “What about her?”

“What about her?” I asked.

“When they lift the order to stay at home, what are you going to do?”

“About what?”

“About her,” he growled. “If you’re planning on doing anything other than what you’re doing, I highly suggest you be honest and tell her now. If you lead her to believe you’re doing one thing, and you end up going back to being you, you’ll break her heart.”

“Nothing’s going to change,” I said.

He scowled. “You sure?”

I’d never been surer of anything in my life.

“I’m positive,” I said.

“You’ve got shit for experience with women,” he said in a spiteful tone. “How can you be sure of anything?”