The Secrets to New York

Thirteen | Monday Mornings

You didn’t call me for a week, or answer your phone when I called you for that matter.

I wasn’t sure what I could do or say to make you feel any better, but I guess that nothing I said or did could help you. You were still breaking and we had to learn how to deal with that, I guess.

It was a Monday when you finally decided to pick up your phone.

Hey. You sounded tired, like you hadn’t slept in weeks. I asked how you were doing and you lied and told me you were okay.

I didn’t bother to hang up as I made the rash decision to get in my car and drive to your apartment. I just stayed on the phone, talking to you the whole time. I tried to make you feel better as I drove. I know that I didn’t know exactly what I should say, but I was just hoping that the sound of my voice would sooth you as much as the sound of yours sooths me. I didn’t tell you I was coming and when you opened the door I could tell that you had been crying. You let me inside and I immediately pulled you into a long hug.

I miss him so much, Emery. You sobbed the words into my neck, like you had been holding them in for so long. I just stood there and held you saying I know, Beckett, I know.

The problem was that I didn’t really know how you felt. As much as I loved and missed your father, I had never truly lost one of my parents. I couldn’t really help you as much as I wanted to and that broke my heart.

I stayed with you that Monday morning, before I had to leave for work. I guess I was worried that if I left, you’d leave too.

Then I would be stuck missing you.