Chapter 38: Fess

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"What are you doing here? How did you get in here?"

Swash looked at me uncomfortably. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"I stood outside until someone else came in."
"How did you know where I live?"
"Nathan told me. He found out from Emmet."
"I stand by what I said, Swash. You need to go."
"Michael, you have no idea how worried I was when-
"As you can see, I'm fine. I'm trying to move on. I suggest you do the same."

I started to walk off with my bag of clothes. He held my hand and stopped me.

"Bradley misses you. You have no idea how much. He kept expecting you to show up every weekend, because I told him that was the only time you were likely to visit. It's been three weeks, Mike. You can't just break his heart like that over and over."
"He'll get over me. There's no point bringing myself back when I don't intend to stay. I have a job that keeps me busy; I have a life that I'm trying to get back on track. I don't need any of this. Neither do you. It'll be best if we just went our separate ways."
 
Swash let go of my hand. I gave him a smile of appreciation and went towards the exit door. He had not moved from in front of my apartment. I left him there and went to the Laundromat. Whenever he decided to leave, he would leave. I checked my pockets to make sure I had enough money. I had already sorted the clothes by colour, so I expected to finish within three or four hours at the latest. The machines were not likely to be occupied at this time of the day. Maybe when I was done, I could actually go visit Jeff. I wasn't sure whether he worked on Sundays too. Like he said, the field of research was unpredictable. Jeff had become my strong tower in the past three weeks. I stayed with him for a week after my assault, and we quickly grew to understand each other. There was an emotion that surpassed love. We were each other. He was like a continuation of me, and I loved him just as much as I loved my own hand. Jason had also been a wonderful friend towards that time. Together, they had taken me out of my post-traumatic stress. I was happy I could go back to my apartment. It took a while for the nightmares to end though. But I was fine. I was going to be fine.

I got back to my apartment at 15:17. Swash's car was still parked in front. I frowned and went in. He was sitting against my apartment door with his head on his forearms, resting between his knees.

"Swash?"

He looked up at me. He was tired. I couldn't believe he waited until I returned.

"You should have gone home. Bradley needs his father."
"He's with Rita. I couldn't stand to watch him disappointed all day for the third time. I knew I needed to come and get you. You're the only one that can make him smile again. Michael, please. Just do it for him."
"Swash I-"
"I'll pay you if you like."

I felt offended. Did he think money was all it took to have me running back into his house? He had another think coming. I frowned and looked down at him.

"Move. I need to get inside."

He stood up. I opened the door into my apartment and slammed it behind me. It didn't slam. I noticed that Swash had put his foot in the door. He winced a little but continued to stare at me.

"I'm sorry Michael; I didn't mean it like that. It's just...I don't know what else to do. I don't know what to tell you to make you come back with me. I can't even believe that you've changed so much. It’s like...it's like you don't even care anymore."

I sighed. I looked into his eyes. He was hurt. He was worried. I didn't mean to be so brash. I just couldn't risk having anything distract me while I was trying to get my life together.

"It's not that I don't care, Swash. I do. Trust me, I miss him too. It’s just..." I struggled to find words to explain what I was thinking and feeling. "Bradley needs someone stable. He's a growing child, very impressionable. I'm still a mess, now even more than I already was. I don't want to ruin him. I still have a lot to figure out on my own. I'm leaving him alone for his own good."
"And you think having him heartbroken and disappointed is going to be good for him? What if he's unable to trust anyone again? You were his best friend Michael. For God's sake, he named his freaking fish after you. I don't need you to tutor him. I don't want you to be his life's coach. You don't even have to say anything if you don't want to. I just need you to be there. He needs you to be there. You promised that you'll always be his friend, didn't you?"

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