Lost and Found

28 | noah

"I wish you were here," I mutter before I lose it, burying my face in my hands as my tears break free.

"I wish she were here too, son."

The sudden intrusion startles me. I nearly jump as I lift my head and turn around to find my father standing behind me, gazing at me with sad eyes.

I'd been so consumed by grief and thought that I hadn't heard my father approach, though I also hadn't been expecting his presence. Dad must be able to read my shocked expression, as he lamely lifts a bouquet of assorted flowers in his hand in explanation.

"Sorry to sneak up on you," Dad murmurs sheepishly. "I brought flowers."

I discreetly wipe away my tears as Dad makes his way over to me. He takes a moment to read over the words on Mom's gravestone before setting the flowers he brought into the place holder, expression grim. He then takes a seat next to me, both of us sitting in silence as we stare at the written name of the woman we both loved.

"I know you miss her," Dad murmurs after a brief moment, voice hoarse. "I miss her, too."

It's as if I've lost the ability to speak. My throat constricts as fresh tears escape my eyes.

"I owe you an apology, Noah."

I glance over at my father curiously, eyebrows drawn as I try to figure out what he might mean.

"I know it used to confuse you back when you were a kid, how I could say I loved your mother when we fought. Or even after we divorced. Or when I moved away. When your mother called me to ask if you could stay with me for a few months back when you were still in high school, part of me always knew you would take that confusion out on me. I never said anything, because I knew I deserved it."

Dad inhales a ragged breath as he stares over at Mom's grave, visibly torn.

"For the record, I always loved your mother. I mean that. Jo was the kind of woman who walked into a room and commanded it. She was more than capable of taking charge, sort of intimidating, and a natural leader. Yet once you got to know her, it was clear that she was really very soft-hearted and maybe too compassionate for her own good. And damn beautiful too. I think I fell for her from the moment I met her."

Dad exhales before continuing.

"But I think you know more than anyone that people change. Everything changes, especially with circumstance and time. And as the years went on, I became less and less of the man your mother had fallen in love with. She became only a shard of the woman I fell for. Along with losing each other, we lost ourselves, Noah. I think the strength of our love was lost as well."

"I wish I knew what happened to us. We were happy for years. Ecstatic when we had you. You were the glue that held our little family together. But as time went on, things changed. I worked later during the nights. Took business meetings on holidays. I could feel myself becoming more and more distanced from my family, yet it seemed out of my control at the time. Needless to say, my absence didn't go unnoticed to Jo. Even when I wasn't working, I wasn't completely there. My actions led to consequences that I regret now, especially considering how things ended up reflecting on you. Sometimes I wish—" Dad hesitates, voice cracking and heavy with emotion. "Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and change things, just so I could save you from your pain. Pain I know that I caused."

"It wasn't until your mom handed me the divorce papers that I realized I'd messed up in a way that was irreversible. I'd taken what I had for granted. I was too selfish to see what was right in front of me. Because of my lack of being around, Jo ended up winning custody of you in court. At the time, it was no secret that I'd turned to alcohol to help me get through most nights. I was at a low point that I thought I'd never come back from. Because of that abuse, the judge ruled—" Dad's eyes well with tears as he struggles to finish his sentence, conflict and torment registering in his expression as he tries to speak. "The court took away my visitation rights for five years," Dad finally manages to finish.