chapter 8

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That night, at the dinner table, I asked my mom something I had never had the guts to ask in a million years.

(ASL Conversation)

"Mom, do you... ever think of dad?" I asked, stopping after every sign I created.

She looked at me surprisingly, because I never bring him up.

"Yes. Everyday."

I felt tears rim in my eyes. I looked at my cup on the table, and blinked them away.

"What made you ask that honey?"

"I just, I don't know. I was just wondering I guess."

"Oh. Well, yes. I do. 24/7."

I nodded. After that, the rest of dinner was silent. I honestly just wanted to go up to my bedroom and call Sam. But I felt that I needed to be strong. I didn't want to lean on anyone. I can take care of myself.

But that didn't happen at all. Because that night, I cried to Sam over the phone.

"I just - ugh. Sam, I -I - I'm so angry." I sobbed, turning my face into my pillow, attempting to cry silently. My mother was deaf, I don't understand why I do that. I guess, it just makes me feel safe, knowing that literally no one can hear my weeps.

"I know you are Blake." His voice; so soothing. It's like his words take my tears away. I get so comfortable when he talks. It's like listening to my favorite song. Peaceful.

"I just - wa- want to know wh-aa-at happen-ed, Sam. Th-at's all I-I want." I said while trying to capture my words together. I hated crying.

"Blake, it was bad. Losing your dad shouldn't have happened. But you will get through it. You will be happy again. I promise." He cooed, for real this time. No sarcasm. I could taste the care in his words. They touched my tongue, and I calmed down. I took deep breaths, and whipped my eyes. My breathing was still shaky but I managed a small smile.

"I love you Sam." I whispered.

"Goodnight Blake. I love you." He said in hushed toned.

After I hung up, I sat there for a minute. Today in the car passed through my mind. Replaying my words, and rethinking the faces he made. The way he looked himself into me. I felt safe when he was in my mind.

Jack.

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