When we were wallflowers

25 (final)

That night, after everyone left, Matthew and I went to check on our Papa after the house was cleaned and silent. He had his door slightly open, allowing us to peek inside. He was sitting at the edge of his bed, looking down at something.

I slowly pushed the door open, causing the frame to the door to creek. Matthew stood beside me, peeking in, and I wanted to go in. I looked to Matthew, who shook his head, but I shrugged at him. "Boys? What's wrong?" Papa asked. He turned around quickly, and we began to walk into his room. "Nothing. Are you okay?" I asked.

Matthew stood beside me, and Papa smiled. He showed me a journal and other things. "What's that?" Matthew asked. We both got closer and looked at the items. "It was your dad's back in high school; he was always so difficult," Papa laughed. Difficult? What did he mean by that?

Matthew and I looked at him, confused, and he started to laugh. "Here, come lay down with me," Papa began. He pushed himself on the bed and laid down near the wall. He gestured for us to follow, and I decided to take the first step.

I slowly climbed onto the bed, and Matthew followed behind. He was between Papa and me with a couple of inches of space between us. Matthew was lying lower and curled up into a ball so as not to harm his arm. I was higher in the bed and rested my cheek against the palm of my hand as I stared at Papa.

Papa placed his hand on Matthew's head and began to lean his forehead against mine. "You know, there isn't a lot your dad used to tell you about when we were younger," Papa started. He began to play with my hair, and I looked at him curiously.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Well, believe it or not, but we despised each other! We hated each other so much! To the point where we even got into fist fights!" Papa laughed. My eyes widened, and I had no idea what to say.

Papa had only shown absolute adoration for our dad; it was hard to believe he hated him. "Really? Why did you both hate each other?" Matthew asked. "No clue, really; we just did. Either way, we managed to fall in love. We never told each other how we felt at first, but we knew."

Papa smiled at Matthew and began to put his arm around me to pull us closer. "I don't regret fighting with him; he showed me that he was more than the tough shell he showed others. Arthur... he was different," Papa smiled.

His eyes looked watery, and I froze. Was he going to...?

"He loved the both of you so much, all he would do is figure out ways to keep you both entertained and happy. He never wanted to seem clingy, but he always considered you both his little babies," Papa laughed. I felt my throat tight, sinking deeper into the bed.

"Losing Arthur didn't mean you lost your dad, or I lost my husband. Losing him...made the entire world stop and end for us. I'm sorry I haven't spoken about how this has affected me, and I know the two of you have noticed... there are just things I still can't comprehend," Papa spoke. He held us closer, and I breathed out.

"But we want you to tell us how you feel...we are worried," Matthew spoke. Papa leaned his head against both of ours and chuckled. "For me... losing Your dad was the worst thing that's ever happened to me. It was like the world came crashing down around me. I had always promised I'd protect him, but it felt like I had failed for a while. Arthur was my best friend, the Father of my children, and so much more. It has been hard to move on, and I don't think I ever will. There were times when I wondered if maybe he would still be alive if I didn't pursue him, but I couldn't bare the thought of you both not being born, and he and I only being friends... I don't regret any decisions I've made, and I think they've led me to the best things in my life now."

I started to cry as I felt his tears fall against my forehead. "Don't ever blame yourselves for anything that happened! It could have happened to anyone, and it just happened to be us. This was no one's fault, and we can't keep blaming ourselves. Your dad would not want that at all. We will eventually learn to live without him, but now, we have each other to lean on for support, so don't be afraid to talk to each other and me."

I heard Matthew sniffle, and I came closer. "I love you both and want you to be safe," Papa cried. "We love you too," I cried. Papa chuckled and kissed my forehead. He held us both tightly and shoved his face into our hair. "There has been no greater loss than the loss of your Father, but I am sure we will get through this together. When his second anniversary comes up, we can sit by his grave and tell him we are doing fine," Papa added.

"Papa, I think I want to go back," Matthew whispered. My eyes widened, and I felt myself sink in. For once, since being here, I felt the same. "Me too... I want to be closer to dad," I whispered. "You both want to go back? We will if you both want to," he spoke. I heard Matthew start crying, and he nodded his head. "It doesn't have to be right away, but I want to go back," I whispered.

"Okay then, I promise we will go back..." he whispered. We continued to lay beside each other, saddened about everything around us. However, I knew that we would get better eventually.

Better with talking about HIM.

Better with moving on.

Better at forgiving ourselves for the "blame" we decided needed to be on us.

Most importantly, we would be better at living in the world without our Father and my Papa's Husband, Arthur Kirkland.