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I leaned against the counter and placed my forehead on the cold marble, sighing in relief as it cooled me down. The decision seemed simple, yet it could be my most complicated one yet.

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41

“Don’t you ask me if its love my dear.”

Say You Don’t Want It, One Night Only

Asher

The sun dipped low on the horizon. Summer was approaching and I couldn’t be more excited. I worked on my truck, trying to fix it up for our summer road trip. Grease slicked my hands as I tinkered beneath the hood. The clinking of metal was like a relaxing stimulus, my moment of solitude.

I had my earphones in as I set my playlist to shuffle mode. The calming melody of Oasis pirouetted in my ear. James’ favourite band.

The peace was short-lived, as Joshua stormed towards me and knocked my earphones to the ground.

“That was rude.” I said, as I wiped my hands on the rag that was hanging from my back pocket.

Josh’s expression was unreadable, as if a storm of emotions was brewing beneath the surface.

“We need to talk.” He said, his voice low and menacing.

“Talk about what?”

“I don’t have time for your games, Asher.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Joshua.” I said, reaching into my pocket for a cigarette. “You know how I feel about her.”

My words seemed to ignite a spark of rage. With hateful eyes, he lunged forward, his fists swinging as his dormant emotions erupted. Surprised, I staggered backwards, dropping my cigarette. It caused my anger to rise to the surface. Before I could blink, we were engaged in a vicious struggle, our fists collided in a flurry of violence. We grappled with each other on the front lawn.

“Stop it, both of you!”

Our altercation was short-lived as our mother pleaded for us to separate. However, it was my dad’s voice that caused me to let go of Josh.

“What is your problem, Asher?”

I turned to my father, my eyes blazing with fury. I’d spent months being my father’s punching bag. He’d had my entire life planned out for me, and the moment I defied him, he turned on me. Joshua was his golden boy, and I was the washed-up and unwanted spare. I was done making excuses for him. Done defending him.

“What’s your problem, dad?” I asked, my voice laced with venom. “You judge me as if you’re not a washed-up father and husband.”

The familial harmony had been cracked for a while and my accusation shattered it.

“Asher, don’t say that to your father.”

Her defending him was the end of the timer. I exploded.

“He cheated on you!” I said, the words escaped before I could stop them. “He’s been cheating on you for months.”

This wasn’t how I wanted my mother to find out, but I’d been drowning in guilt. Choking on it. Everyone went silent, trying to register the betrayal that had festered beneath the surface of our family’s facade. I gazed into my mother’s eyes as I choked on the tears.

“I am so sorry, Mom.” My voice was raw with pain and regret. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but I was so afraid of what would happen. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears as she reached out to me, enveloping me in a comforting embrace.

“This is not your fault.” She whispered to me.

I shook my head, my shoulders shaking with the weight of guilt.