Page 44 of The Downside of Love
He doesn’t say anything when I reach him. He turns into the house, leaving me to shut the door. In the grand entryway, the antler chandelier above me feels like a pound of thorns waiting to crash upon me as it casts its light on a dark moment.
“Tell me.”
Two words, spoken with such malice that I feel a shiver creep up my spine. Even though I’m as tall as my father and have maybe a few pounds on him, I still fear his wrath. I still flinch with his sharp movements. It might be the little boy inside me visualizing the many times I was reprimanded or punished, and in this moment, I can feel my body turtle in on itself. I can feel the boy with hopes and dreams of being a fighter pilot have his dreams squashed right in front of him. I feel him hurting, bleeding, slowly dying inside and becoming hard as stone, blackening a heart that was barely there to begin with.
Wanting to seem strong despite the hurt pulsing through me, I say, “I didn’t get in.”
The words fall out of my mouth, sounding robotic and unnatural as the air stills. Hands still on his hips, turned away, his head slightly bows before he shakes it.
“You’re pathetic,” he grits out, turning around now and walking toward me with powerful steps. He comes to within inches of my face, his nose practically touching mine. “You sorry piece of shit.” He cocks his fist back and punches me dead in my gut, crippling me to the ground. Not letting up, he kicks me in the side, careening me backward so I’m flipped onto my back, head pressing against the side of the door, my arm protectively slung over my stomach, my lungs captured by a coughing fit.
Squatting down, he grips the center of my ABUs and pulls me up so I’m close enough to notice the wild look in his pupils. Searching my eyes, sneering with disdain, he growls, “You’re the biggest disappointment of my life. You don’t deserve to wear this uniform, let alone carry the Sheppard name.” Shoving me back to the ground so my head hits the hardwood floor, he stands and says, “Get the fuck out of my house.”
The click of his shoes sounds in the entryway as he retreats to his office where he slams the door. I close my eyes, sucking in deep breaths, trying to regain my balance. When I open my eyes, I spot my mom at the top of the stairs, a wineglass in hand, her hair a complete mess. She doesn’t say anything. She gives me no indication of caring, instead she just stares. She’s never truly been a mom to me, always disheveled over the next re-station, never once caring to see how I’m feeling or to step in when my dad was unleashing his anger on me and my brothers. I can’t even remember a single conversation I’ve had with her. It’s almost as if she’s been a shell since the moment she married my dad.
What does she think in moments like these? That’s my son lying in pain on the ground? Or are her thoughts more like my father’s? What a sorry excuse of a man my son is.No wonder my heart is black.
Gathering myself, I slowly get to my feet, the pain in my side and stomach intense. Checking for my keys, I grip them in my hand and turn away, making my way to my car.
I’m a strong man. I’ve been built and groomed to show no emotion. It’s the Sheppard way.
But the moment my car door shuts, I press my forehead against the steering wheel and for the first time in my life that I can remember, I cry.
Not because of what my dad said.
Not because I’m a straight-up disappointment to the Sheppard line.
But because as I sit here in my car, devastated, realization hits me.Mydreams of becoming a fighter pilot have been stripped from me, and the future I had planned no longer exists.
If I can’t fly, then what was the point of everything leading up to graduation?
There was no point.
It was all a waste of time.
My entire life to this moment has been a goddamn waste.Just like me.
Chapter Fourteen
RORY
Isit at the check-in table, hunched over, arm wrapped around my waist, and look at the races, checking them off as results are brought in for the awards ceremony once all events have been completed.
This morning was extremely uncomfortable, having to drive over to Coronado High School with Stryder in the passenger’s seat just as quiet as he was the night before after he shut me out, turning his back on me again.
I wanted nothing more than to push him, to force him to talk to me, to tell me why he’s being so standoffish, but instead I sucked in a miserable breath and let it go. I think the time has come where I need to let him do his thing, despite how much it pains me. My mom has told me on many occasions that men process things differently than women. And that sometimes it is our role to sit back and wait. And for Stryder, I can do that.
I’ve always been a fixer. But no matter how much I want tofixStryder, I might not be able to. He hinted that life behind the Sheppard’s closed door had been horrendous, particularly since he didn’t make flight school, and that breaks my heart. His family should be proud of the man he is. Flight school or not. There is so much good in him, and I want him to know it's there too.
A sharp pain radiates through my stomach, and I take a second to breathe it out, squeezing my eyes shut.Shit, that hurts.
Leaning forward in my chair, I try to stretch my back by propping my arms against the table and leaning forward, but it doesn’t help.
Walking.
Maybe if I walk it off it will be better. Life has been a little full, I guess. This event, coaching Bryan . . . I’ve been drinking enough water for how much I’ve been working out lately. But maybe not enough hydration today . . . Wasn’t my mom harping on me about that? I can see her shaking her finger at me right now, telling me how she told me so. I wouldn’t put it past her. Looks like a trip to Walgreens on the way home.
Standing from my chair, I work my way around the venue, ignoring the blinding pain in my side, waving and smiling, so grateful for the many volunteers Stryder organized.
