Every Single Thing About You: A “Tuck Yes” Love Story - Book 3 by Hopkins, Faleena (best fiction novels of all time .TXT) 📕

want you. Believe me, that’s a hard thing for any kid to accept. But to be left with pure evil is where I draw the line in forgiveness.” Walking to the door, Bennett says, “When I heard you were looking for me, I could not fathom why you’ve chosen to come back into my life now, after all these years, but you’re too late. I don’t need a dad anymore. Now leave.”

I cross my arms, beside Bennett in body and spirit. Together we watch his father ball up the used sheets and plunge them into a pocket with a nod of acceptance.

But for a long time he does not move.

I look over to Bennett and he shakes his head.

“Your mother and I were just sixteen when we met. It was at a party. We were both high.” His gaze is locked on a memory like it’s embedded in my floor. “That’s what brought us together, actually. I was a shy kid. Didn’t fit in anywhere. Paulina and I, we were inseparable after that. When she got pregnant, we stayed clean for a while, but it was just the beginning of our addiction. The real trouble was my father. He was a bad man. Molested me and my sister. She’d gotten out of the house a few years before, but I was still living at home. In that hell. Paulina’s house was the same. That’s what drew us to each other, and to the drugs. A few months after you were born, we didn’t have anywhere to stay. I asked if we could stay with my sister. By that time we were using again, and she said she’d take you — just you — on the condition that I didn’t see you again until I was sober. I lost Paulina. She overdosed on her twenty-first birthday. Never forgave herself for not knowing you, but she couldn’t quit the habit, and neither could I. Especially after I lost her. She was my last string of sanity. We used to dream of when we’d come and get you. Without her nothing could bring me back. There was no more couch surfing with friends or strangers or dealers. I was finally homeless. One of those people you see talking to themselves because they don’t have anyone else to talk to. I had to guard what little I owned. Was robbed constantly by others like me.” Eyes without hope or fear lock onto his abandoned son. “I didn’t have a house to take you to. I didn’t have sobriety to build a new one with. I had no idea she mistreated you. I thought you were better off, all these years. When we grew up, my sister was a good person, but you look so much like our father, Bennett. My guess is she made you pay for what he did to us.”

Bennett’s eyes are hard, unfeeling. “I assume you’re clean now.”

“Three years today.” Pulling the wadded up paper from his pocket, he wipes fresh blood away. “That’s why I thought I’d give it my best shot by coming here and waiting. Tried to find your place, but I haven’t seen you after that day on the subway. Didn’t want to bother your friends but I had no other choice. Tried to find you on the internet…”

“I work from home as a trader.”

His father nods. “That’s why then. I assume they told you I was watching you on the train.”

“Why didn’t you say something then?”

“Scared.” He shoves the paper back into his pocket. “Ashamed. I’ve felt enough shame for a thousand people and a thousand lifetimes, and I can’t function under that pain anymore. It makes me want to use. I’m never going back to my old life, no matter if you accept me into yours or not.” His back straightens with dignity. “Nothing will get in the way of my serenity this time.”

Bennett grunts, “Twelve steps?”

“I’ve got a sponsor, and I sponsor four men myself. Can’t do this without help and a power greater than myself.”

Silence fills the air as father and son stare at each other.

“I was told you and my mother were a one-night thing. That you didn’t even love each other.”

A stronger frown sets in as the old man’s eyes shadow with the surprise. “That’s not true.”

Bennett drags his hand over his face, pacing two steps before demanding, “You guys ever come to see me?! I don’t know, watch me through a fence at school or something?”

A sad smile crushes me from the old man’s face. “We snuck over her fence and watched you sleep. Did that dozens of times because she wouldn’t let us visit. It was torture. Do you remember a woman with brown hair and hazel eyes taking your hand in the park when you were five?”

Bennett’s eyes go wide. “You mean that crazy woman who tried to abduct me?”

“She wasn’t crazy. She was high.” His father’s eyes fill with tears. “That was two days before her twenty-first birthday.”

Covering his face, Bennett walks into my bathroom and shuts the door.

On a deep breath, I nod to myself and lock eyes with a ghost granted new life. “Pull up a chair. Let me get you a beer. He’ll want to know more.”

When Bennett finally returns, his red eyes cut to me. He doesn’t object to the beer, but instead asks for one of his own. I stay in support of him, listening to stories until Elliot finally pokes his head out. “Dad?”

We look over as Bennett says a tired, “Yeah?”

“I have to use the bathroom.”

“Go ahead.”

Elliot heads over, but stops.“Is that your grandfather, Dad?”

“No, He’s yours.”

Glasses get pushed back. “I didn’t know you had a dad.”

“He wasn’t around.”

Elliot blinks a couple times. “Kind of like you.”

Bennett rubs his face, used to this sort of bluntness since he’s the one who passed it down, but the sentiment hurts even if it was earned. “Not exactly.”

Without accusation, Elliot asks, “How not?”

“You’re good at math. How old are you?”

“I just turned eleven.”

“Am