Lost

Chapter 94: "Unpleasant Alternatives - I"

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"But how do you let go?" Zayn said quietly.

Robert turned to him in surprise. This was the first time he was actually entertaining the idea of him letting go as a possibility, even if it was just by asking how it could be done. Robert had been dreading Zayn to flat out shoot the idea down by saying 'I can't!' like so many times before. He Still was not sure where Zayn was coming from when he asked that question so he took a while to choose his words carefully.

Zayn on the other, was feeling pressured. He had to try to move on, he realized. Last night, his grandpa found a knife on his bedside table. It almost broke the old man down. Zayn had never seen him look so miserable before. His sudden meltdown completely baffled Zayn.

"Your grandma wanted to see you grow into a handsome, young man, find a nice girl and settle down," The old man said miserably, "She would talk of playing with your children when you were just a child yourself,"

Zayn smiled sadly, remembering her radiant, loving face.

"She didn't get to see it but I did . . ." His voice cracked, "I've seen you became a man, beautiful inside and out. You're worth more than you give yourself credit for, son. I - I can't . . .Will you let me live my numbered days seeing you happy, and whole so when I go to her, I can inform her that all she dreamt of had become a reality? That you were happy, that you loved life and -"

"Grandpa, where is this coming from?!"

He got out of chair to sit next to the old man, putting an arm around his shoulders.

"You're my only son, Zayn" Granpa Steve cried, "My only - I can't lose you -"

"Grandpa, you're not -"

"Do I have your word that you'll take care of yourself?!" he asked suddenly, looking Zayn squarely in the eyes.

Zayn stared back into his blue eyes, taken aback.

"Grandpa, the accident was -"

"Do I have your word, Zayn!" he asked more firmly.

Zayn swallowed. He did not want to lie, so he had to promise.

"Yes, Grandpa," Zayn replied, "You have my word."

Hours later, him and Robert were sitting in his car, staring at the crashing waves of the ocean far below. He had asked the question because he had made up his mind. He had to let go, not for himself, but for the old man who seemed to live only to see his pathetic son live.

"It's not done in a night." Robert shrugged. "It's not a switch you can turn off, but entertaining the idea is a start."

"How did you do it?" Zayn asked.

Robert sighed, running a hand through his long hair.

"I don't know when it started, but I remember realizing one day that I was not the planner," He began, "I could try to do things a certain way but how they end up getting done is not decided by me. I gave myself up to Allah. I declared it out loud that I was giving up to His will. It might sound like a small thing to do but you'll see how hard thewords are to utter when you don't want to let go . . . After that, I took practical steps to move on,"

Zayn said nothing for a while as he stared at the waves crashing against the rocks.

"What do you mean practical steps?"

Robert shrugged.

"There's always something that holds us back. It reinforces the will to hold on; memories in the shape of gifts, pictures or even videos," he said. "I wouldn't sleep until I had this shirt on that she bought for me, but she would wear it more than I did."