Does Love Really Exist? {Sequel to Love Exists?}

Chapter 8

Jak's POV

After my dad died when I was around 7, I didn't believe that dads lived very long. As a child, I thought that dads just didn't live as long as moms did. Which was probably stupid, but I was a stupid kid, so I suppose its okay. When I turned 9, I went to a friend's birthday party and his dad was there and I remember being so confused. I thought his dad should've already died like mine did. So, I asked my friend if his dad was going to die soon. His mom immediately called my mom telling her to come pick me up. What I had done wasn't very socially acceptable even as a nine-year-old.

She had to have a long conversation telling me it was only some dads that would die young and only some moms too. I remember crying and asking her when I'd see him again. I remember that she cried too and told me it would be a very, very long time but she promised I'd see him again.

For years after that, I was simply confused. Why was my dad the one to die? Was I supposed to be sad about it? Why did he have to leave so young?

At about 12 years old, I got angry. At that time, my memories of my dad were faded, and I could barely remember who he was. Mom would always tell me stories and show me pictures of him, but I was so angry. I couldn't remember who it was. I couldn't remember his face properly. I couldn't remember any of the things he said to me. It was like Mom was telling me stories of some historical figure, not my own dad. I found it so unfair.

About a year later, I got in trouble with the police. I had some sort of meltdown at school when we had an assembly for all the people who had died at war. Like my dad did. I was screaming and crying and freaking out. I ended up storming out. I spent the next few hours calming down at a park before the police found me. They drove me home and Mom was crying. She was so worried about me and scared. She couldn't handle the thought of losing her soulmate and her child. She thought I was depressed, or maybe she thought I had anger issues or something.

She tried to take me to therapy, telling me it would be good. I told her the truth. About how I couldn't even remember Dad, let alone anything else. So, instead of going, she told me more and more stories about Dad, from the first time Mom and Dad met, to the first time Dad held me as a baby, to the last time she saw him. The only thing I could remember is when I used to have nightmares and he'd take me outside to watch the stars. He'd lie with me and tell me stories of when he was a kid, though I can't remember any of them. And from that conversation, whenever I felt too overwhelmed at night, I'd go watch the stars and pretend he was there with me.

I got happier, Mom got happier, I went back to school happier and I met Seth. And my whole life finally seemed to fall into place. I thought I knew everything about my future from then. But I had no idea that Rocco would show up and flip everything upside down.

Mom's started dating again.

That's the point of thinking about the whole past.

She has a new boyfriend that she met after work. She's a nurse. She wants me to go meet him this weekend (I think its just an excuse for me to go home) for a family dinner.

"Sweetie? You there?" she asks over the phone.

"Yeah, sorry. What was that?"

"I said, you can bring Dylan too," she says.

"Oh..."

"Is everything okay? Did something happen between you two?"

"Yeah," I reply honestly, there's never ever been any secrets between me and my Mom. Not even when I was in high school.

"What happened?" she asks.

"He was cheating on me. I walked into the apartment a few days ago, and he was literally making out with some guy on the couch."