Page 92 of The Sweetheart
“Yeah.”
“Don’t ‘yeah’ me, young man.”
“Yes, Obaachan!”
“Kai-chan, did you finish your homework?”
“I’ll do it later!”
“Okay, don’t leave it for long. I don’t like you staying up until all hours.”
His grandmother’s house had always heavily favoured his grandfather’s and great-grandfather’s Italian heritage, but since his mother had always called her own grandmother “Obaachan,” that was what he called his, even though he’d done it with his terrible Canadian accent.
The deeper they went, the heavier his heart got. He opened the door to his grandfather’s office and found it also largely unchanged, filled to the brim with large, ornately carved furniture and dark leather. The only new addition was the large TV across from the desk where a painting had once been. Kai didn’t linger. It wasn’t a room he’d spent much time in since Nonno had died when he was too small to remember him.
He closed the door. The next bedroom had once been a guest bedroom, and while the furniture was still the same, layers of boxes and bins had been stacked inside along the walls, each labelled with permanent marker on the side.
The third had been his. He hesitated with his hand on the door before opening it. He was sure that if any room would have been deserving of a full dismantle, it would have been this one. When he pushed it open, he found that he was wrong. The random collection of things that had once littered his dresser and desk had been cleared away, as had the Toronto FC and music posters he’d put up, but other than a fresh coat of white paint, the room had largely been unchanged. Kai was momentarily confused. He’d always felt like they hated him, but this made it feel like he’d been little more than a nuisance, a mark on the wall that just needed a light covering up.
He ran his hand along the desk where he’d spent most of his school years, and her voice came back to him again.
“An A+? Oh my goodness! You deserve a reward for this. What do you want for dinner? I’ll make anything.”
For years, it had been hard to summon the sound of her voice, but, here, it happened so easily. He could almost feel her arms around him and the way she’d hugged him to her soft belly. He could feel her warmth and the scent of her perfume surrounding him. It wasn’t an expensive one, but he had a very clear memory of going with her to The Bay to buy it one time. Itwas just a little memory, something he hadn’t thought about in a long time, but it was suddenly clear as day.
He felt a shift in the air, and his scent memory was so visceral that he turned to look around, the hair on his skin rising. It felt like he was being compelled down the hall, but his feet resisted every step he took, the sick feeling from before building in his stomach again. The memory of the last time he’d been in that room still haunted him. The door was partially ajar from his aunt and uncle’s hasty departure, and he pushed it open, peering in from a distance. Just like the rest of the house, the furniture was still there. Drawers on the dresser and bedside table had been pulled out and left haphazardly, their contents spilling onto the floor, some emptied entirely. The bed was made and mildly rumpled like it had recently been disturbed. His heart rate ramped up violently. Despite that, he could see the outline of her small frame on the bed, emaciated from the appetite that had evaded her in her final weeks.
“Kai-chan come see me.”
He couldn’t. His feet felt cemented to the floor. He was sure that if he went there she would know all of the terrible things he’d done. She would be so disappointed in him.
Still, she called him.
He dragged his feet forward, tears spilling down his cheeks, because even after her death, he could never disobey her. The chair that he’d lived in during her final days was gone, so he sank to his knees beside her bed. He could still see her hand resting on the comforter, frail and bony but still warm. That warmth had been comforting when it was all he’d had left. All of his grief and fear and shame were as fresh now as they had been then. Except, back then, his shame had been rooted in his selfish fear of what would happen to him after she was gone. Now, it was for everything that had happened since.
“Everything went so wrong. Nothing happened the way yousaid it would,” he told her, trying to explain himself as hot tears scalded his face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He pressed his face into the comforter, but it wasn’t the heavy floral quilt that had once adorned her bed that had carried her scent even after she’d passed.
Kai startled as the weight of someone landed beside him. Nolan was on his knees. Kai threw himself at him, and Nolan gathered him in, wrapping him tight in his arms.
“Why didn’t you come?” Kai sobbed, his voice muffled against Nolan's chest.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into Kai’s hair, holding him close and gently rocking him, while the grief he’d held in for so long purged itself from his body.
“I miss her so fucking much.”
“I know, baby.” Nolan held him close. Kai burrowed into him, desperate to escape the weight of it all. It was so easy to come apart in Nolan’s arms. Kai knew Nolan would have the answers in the end. He would know how to put Kai back together again when it was all done, so he just let it happen, letting himself feel everything until there was nothing left.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to Nolan when he was finally able to pull away and look him in his face. Kai knew he must look like a hideous mess. His whole face was swollen and red, tears still streaming from his sore eyes, nose running, but he didn’t care. He needed to tell Nolan everything so that he could be done with it. He needed Nolan to know so that he could decide if he was worth trying for, and he needed to make it so that Liam could never come for Nolan again.
“Me too, Kai. I should have never let you go. I was angry and I was hurt, but that doesn’t excuse anything.”
Kai shook his head. “No. Please. I need you to listen to me. I need to tell you everything,” he said, gripping onto his shirt.
“We don’t have to do this right now, Kai,” Nolan said gently.
“I do. I can’t. I have to do it here.”
