TW: SUICIDE
Nick sat in his dimly lit living room, surrounded by memories of his son Adam.
Photos, trophies, and mementos adorned the walls and shelves, each one a painful reminder of the son he had lost.
It had been six months since Adam's tragic suicide, and the grief still felt like a heavy weight pressing down upon Nick's chest.
As he sat in the silence, Nick's thoughts wandered back to the day he had received the devastating news. The police officer's somber expression, the words "suicide" and "depression" echoing through the air. Nick's heart sank as he realized that he had missed the signs, the subtle clues that his son had been struggling in silence.
Adam's note, which he had read a thousand times, still haunted Nick. "It's no one's fault. I've been struggling with depression my whole life." The words were like a knife twisting in Nick's gut. He had been so blinded by his own selfishness, his own struggles, that he had failed to recognize the pain his son was in.
The signs became so clear in hindsight; his baby boy tried to maintain a facade of perfection for his father, throwing himself into sports and academics and whatever he could get his hands on to hide the suffering that he endured inside his mind every day. And Nick failed him.
Just as Nick was lost in his thoughts, a knock at the door broke the silence. He rose from his seat, his heart racing with a mix of anticipation and dread. Who could be visiting him at this hour?
He swore if it was one more "concerned friend or family member" coming to tell him they were "so sorry" for his loss and to "let me know if you need anything" or try to shove their predatory religion down his throat— he was going to lose it. They all looked like faceless machinations masquerading as humans when they repeated all the same words to him. But no one could possibly understand his grief. There was no word in the dictionary to describe a parent having to identify his son's cold dead body with a bullet in the head of his once smiling face.
He opened the door to find a young man standing on the porch, his eyes downcast and his hair disheveled. The young man introduced himself as Sonny, but, as he stood there fidgeting, pulling on his own oversized sleeves. It was then that Nick recognized Sonny's sweater: it was Adam's.
"And you are my son's...?" Nick questioned him, eyeing his entire petite frame with suspicion. Sonny flinched at the accusation.
"I'm his friend," Sonny said quickly, practiced. Then, a look of guilt washed over Sonny's face as he noticed Nick's knowing eyes size him up. He swallowed and looked down at his sleeves. He took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wilcox. I wasn't exactly just a friend. Actually, me and... your son, were..." he confessed. He took another shaky breath. "Im sorry. Adam just didnt want anyone to know that we were... Dating."
Sonny's words tumbled out in a rush immediately following his confession as he apologized for disturbing Nick. Sonny explained that he had come only come to return Adam's class ring and would leave immediately. Nick's heart ached as he listened to Sonny's trembling voice.
"Come in, Sonny. And, call me Nick," Nick invited him inside.
Sonny's eyes welled up with relief as he took in Nick's kind expression. He nodded and stepped inside.
Nick couldn't help but feel a pang of betrayal, confusion as Sonny's words repeated in his head while he prepared tea for them.
Nick had always been open about his bisexuality, even having a boyfriend when Adam was growing up. He didn't think he had ever given Adam the impression that he would be disappointed in his son for being gay. Why would he have kept his relationship a secret? And his heart hurt for the trembling young man in his living room, the fear and grief that ravaged him.
