Wildly Driven

Chapter 77

I was still not in my senses when I sat down to make ham sandwiches for Dad. I had come to accept the fact that I was dying and I wanted to leave a clean slate before my time came up. I could only hope that these sandwiches might help me achieve it.

I still didn't know what I was headed for, but before I could change my mind, I wanted to get this done with. I cleaned the kitchen from my mess and went to his room taking the plate and a glass of fresh milk.

Dad was leaning on his bed, with Bible in his hand, reading too much into it. I guess he relied on God now than anyone else to solve what was doomed in for us.

"Morning." I said startling Dad a little, but he only looked at me with a stretch of confusion spread on his face. "Is this one of the daily routines?"

"Huh?" He asked, as he involuntarily closed his book, taking off his reading glasses. "This, yeah... well, this is what is left for me, right? A form of purification."

I sighed as I placed the plate and the glass of milk on the side table and sat at the other edge of the bed, facing him. I was tired of fighting with him everyday. I looked away, figuring out what to do next.

"How are you, Scar?" He asked as he scooted closer, placing his hand on top of mine.

His face had wrinkled way too much in the last two weeks. It felt as if he was hurting now more than he had ever before. His one question took me off guard because it was something that he hadn't asked me all these times I was under his roof.

"Um... okay." I said. I cringed when that one word was enough to make me feel like a liar. "Before anything, I want to say that you are not completely forgiven. This," I pointed towards the sandwich. "It only means that I'm trying."

"I understand." Dad said, looking away.

"I don't want any explanations, Dad." I said, I knew I had figured it all out.

"But I want to clear the air between us. Is that okay?" I nodded my head at him. "Look, Scar." He said. "I know what I did was wrong. When I lost both of them almost back to back, I knew I was screwed. I wanted some kind of repentance, but I was too hurting to even think of that."

"Dad..." I said, not wanting to hear any of that. I hadn't gone to him to hear about his feelings. I wanted to give him some information and get done with it.

"No, I want to tell it to you." He said. "Who knows when you'll make up your mind not to talk to me?"

I sighed, knowing all too well that he was right. I nodded my head, asking him silently to continue.

"That was why I didn't come back home." He said, going down his memory lane. "I wanted to cure myself first and then get back to you. What if I was pouring all my nasty thoughts into your mind? I didn't want to risk that."

I nodded my head, not wanting to say things that would hurt him more than he already was.

"When my leg was broken, I thought I deserved it. But when I saw you working your ass off for me, I couldn't take it. That's why... you know... I tired..."

"To kill yourself." I completed. "I think it's all in the past now, don't you think?"

"I hope so." He said, smiling a little. "Thank you."

It was for the first time that I was seeing him smile after so long. I had been avoiding him for all right reasons, but one call I had got yesterday took away all my anger away from him.

"What is it, sweetheart?" He asked.

"The race with Ashley is pre-poned." I said. "It's today."

It was something that I wasn't okay talking about. All this time, this final race seemed somewhere far off that it felt as if I had been playing all along, not preparing well for the dreaded day. According to the first draft of contract, there was still days to while away before the deadline. But things had changed within the blink of an eye.