Jordan
MY FATHER MADE IT A POINT to never miss my performances when I was a child. I knew even then that it wasn't because he was so proud of me. It was because he needed to make sure I did well. I made a lot of money for our family, and as soon as I was old enough, my parents made sure I grasped the significance of that. But this one time, my father had pneumonia, and doctors said he couldn't travel to Munich for my concert.
It was the worst performance of my life.
I missed notes. I rushed passages. I played with no emotion. Something was missing, and I knew it was my father.
And as I sit by his bed in this cold, sterile room, I realize that he has been missing. I've convinced myself that he doesn't matter. That I don't want his approval. That I don't love him.
But he does. And I do.
I drop my head to the metal bar flanking his bed. He's drifted back into unconsciousness, and they say when he wakes up, he may not be able to talk much or right away, but I'll wait. If nothing else, he'll be able to hear. If nothing else, he'll hear me say I'm sorry for the bitter words we hurled at one another over the dinner table like javelins across a battlefield. If nothing else, I'll empty myself of this acidic regret ulcerating the lining of my stomach.
At an unexpected touch, I raise my head. My father's big hand brushes my hair back like he did when I was a little boy. His eyes, so like Grady's, stare back at me, glazed and drugged with meds and pain, but with a clarity I'm not sure I've ever seen. And he steals all my thunder when his chapped lips open just barely over a word my ears aren't sure they hear, but that land on my heart.
"Sorry."
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful Chaos/A Jordan Knight FanFic/ Book One in the Beautiful series. ✔️
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