Impact, Book 2 of Wingless series

Me

The doctors, the nurse, the bed pans, the hospital is not an exciting place.

I pass the gift shop and the vending machines. I'm going to see my dad. I know I'll run into my mother, I expect it. But she is nowhere to be found.

Gray said she isn't feeling well. So it seems like the perfect time to make a visit in hopes of not running into my mom.

He looks the same—pale. I touch his head. It's hard not to cry and beg him to come back to us.

"Hey, Dad. It's been awhile since I was here. But I'm sure you know it's easier to avoid Mom than to deal with her. Gray said she's sick, I wouldn't know because she doesn't talk to me." I squeeze his hand. "Things are going good for me. I just got back from a trip. Evan took me to his family cabin. It was nice. You would have liked all the scenery. I even caught a fish. I swear it was a piranha but Evan says they don't live in the lake. I say he's wrong, but what do I know?"

"I miss you. We all can't wait for you to get better so you can see the new baby. He's cute." I smooth his hair. "Well, I just want to tell you that I love you. I have to go. I promise I'll make it back again sometime."

I come back the next day. I enjoy talking to him, telling him about my days and willing him to pull through. And the more I go the more I believe that it's going to happen.

I tell him my thoughts on love. I even ask him if he believes love last after death. Do we still love the same people once we pass on? I never have wanted to know these things until I almost died. I ask him how he feels about death even though I know he isn't going to answer. I can't imagine he was ever afraid of dying, he never seemed afraid of anything.

I know he will get better because he survived the plane crash. He isn't dead, and I'm not grieving, that is enough to make me believe.

The one parent that cares about me is suffering and the one who could give two shits is alive and well. Life is unfair.

I don't understand why everyday it seems life tries to pull me down even more.

What doesn't kill you didn't make you stronger. That's bullshit because I am feeling weaker every day that my dad doesn't wake up.

Coming home lifts my spirits. I know I can count on Evan to make everything right again. He always levels me when I think I am going to give up.

"Evan," I say, dropping my keys on the counter. I set my purse down. It's quiet. I wonder if he is even home. He's not in the living room.

I open the door to the bedroom. He's sprawled out on the bed face down in a pillow.

"Evan."

He rolls over and sits up.

"Hey."

"Is everything okay?" I ask. Something doesn't feel right.

"Define okay for me." He leaves me alone in the room and heads into the living room.

"I don't know. Is there something wrong?" I ask, crossing my arms. I fear the worst anymore.

He won't even look at me.

"Why are you acting like I am not here?"

He takes a seat on the couch.

"Evan, why are you treating me like this?" I ask. I don't understand the distance going on between us.

"Is there anything you want to tell me? Like maybe what you have been up to?" he says, giving me something to work with.