Moon Child |✔|

|41|

"It hurts."

"Of course it does," you smiled sadly. "The hurt is how we know it was love. The absence we feel is proof that what we had is something that can be lost."

"...And when does it stop?"

With eyes dark like a cloud before rain, you replied, "If it was love, it won't."

~Beau Taplin

***

~ATLAS~

I think father hates the fall.

There's something about the season that puts him on edge.

Something about it that always makes him stay inside, holed up within his office as the leafs continue their fading change in color. 

There are a lot of things that father can't look at.

A lot of things that father won't or simply will not do.

He won't sit on the back porch by himself.

Someone has to be with him.

He won't go to the lake.

Jackie took me there sometimes, a beautiful place.

But father never goes.

He can't stand the color white. Dark colors suit him more, he'll say.

But I know better.

There are a lot of things father won't do.

Things that are just a part of his daily life that I don't think twice upon.

And now.

Another thing that father won't do.

That was coming back to haunt me.

He won't go to the clinic.

"When did it start?"
Doctor Schulman slowly walked to his desk.

I honestly lost track of how old Doctor Schulman was. Ancient, is what a lot of wolf's joke about behind his back.

A nurse is there to help and, and honestly, Nurse Joy does pretty much everything for him. Father can't bring himself to retire him though, or to seek out a new doctor.

"Maybe a week ago?"

Doctor Schulman's eyes glared at me, causing even my Alpha blood to quiver. When it came to concerns about my father, he was brutal. He loved my father more than any wolf in the pack. The kind of loyalty father could inspire truly awed and frightened me sometimes. I wondered idly when I had nothing else to do, if Schulman would jump of the nearby cliff if father asked.

The knowing answer would be yes.

"That's a long time to wait Atlas. The symptoms could have gotten worse now, without my treatment."

I shift nervously within my seat.

"Okay," Schulman seems to notice my nervousness, because he relaxes slightly, easing into his chair. "Go over again what you've notice."

I take a deep breath.

It could be nothing. Nothing really. Just my mind jumping to conclusions. But I still worry.

"A week ago I noticed father standing in the hall. He didn't know where he was, or what he was doing there...but then after a few minutes of me talking to him, he seemed to snap out of it and just laughed..."