Last Names | Tyrus/Muffy

Part 5

TJ's POV

When I hear the door open and close downstairs, I practically leap from my desk chair into my bed, tossing my phone onto my bedside table at the same time. I manage to get myself underneath the covers right before my mother knocks on the door, and she opens it to find me in bed right where I should be at this time of night.

"You're still awake," my mom notices.

"Yeah," I respond. "Can't seem to fall asleep."

She peers at me for another second before she folds her arms over her chest.

"Maybe that's because you're trying to go to sleep in your clothes instead of pyjamas."

I let out a nervous laugh then give up, admitting, "Okay, I wasn't sleeping."

I sit up and pull the covers away while my mom comes over to sit down across from me on the bed. Usually she'd be telling me to have a good night and leaving, but it seems like she has more on her mind than just that.

"I think it's time I explain something to you," she says.

I can't think of what she could be talking about, not until she pulls out a small photograph from her back pocket and holds it out for me to see. It's the same picture that Cyrus and I looked at earlier today, but she doesn't know I've seen it already, so I sit quiet.

"This is your father," she says.

Suddenly, my silence becomes involuntary. I don't know what to say, for she somehow managed to stun my words away. All I can get out are the tears I can't hold back. I've never seen my dad before, and my mom never told me much about him.

"Why are you only showing me this now?" I finally ask.

Her eyes gleam with tears like mine as she stares at me with no answer prepared.

"You said you didn't have any photos of him," I go on. "You said you lost them all." My voice cracks as I feel my throat tighten under the anger I feel simmering beneath my skin.

My mom looks down as she replies, "I was ashamed."

"Ashamed of what?" I question. "What are you talking about?"

She looks back up at me with a sniffle, her eyes dripping with emotion now.

"TJ, your father didn't die."

"What?" I croak. "Did he leave?"

"No," Mom whispers. "I—I didn't tell him about you."

"Why not?" I ask. "Did he not want me?"

"It's not that," Mom insists. "You see, your father had a life, and I thought that me having a baby would impede on that, so I thought it would be best if I kept you a secret."

"What do you mean? What life did he have that I couldn't be a part of?"

"He had a family," my mother quickly answers. "A different family. But I didn't know that until after I was pregnant. I was going to tell him about you, but then I found out about his wife and that she had a little baby girl already on the way."

I stay quiet, not knowing what to say. My mom lied to me about my dad for 13 years. She let me dream that he was this nobel, good-hearted man, but he was the exact opposite. He was a cheating piece of dirt who never even wanted me to exist, and my mother made me believe he actually cared about us when he didn't. He never did.

When I don't say anything, my mother starts talking. "I understand that you probably need some time—"

"I do need time," I cut her off.

Immediately, I stand up and start walking toward the door.

"Where are you going?" my mom asks, her worry apparent in her voice.

"I don't know," I snap. "I need space."

A bang rings out as I slam the door shut behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my mother flinch at the noise before she's completely blocked out of sight.

________________________________________

Cyrus steps outside the moment I reach his front porch. His eyes are curious but comforting, making me feel instantly more at ease with everything. He always makes me feel that way. Whenever anything is going wrong, I know that he is right. I want to just hug him and hold him close to me—for him to push away the bad things and replace them with his good—but I keep my distance.

"What's wrong?" Cyrus asks. "Your text seemed urgent."

"I just needed someone to talk to," I respond. Then I add in a mumble, "Or scream to."

Cyrus smiles gently, saying, "Well, my parents are sleeping, so maybe hold back on screaming."

I laugh, feeling the tenseness in my chest loosen before pulling tight again a moment later. I walk over to lean my elbows on the porch railing.

"Thanks," I say. 

Cyrus furrows his brows, asking, "For what?"

"For making me smile."

Cyrus comes over and takes the space on the railing next to me, his soft eyes making the air feel less stiff. 

"You're welcome," he says. Then he follows with, "What's going on?"

I let the night air fill the silence for a moment as it brushes between the trees. There are no engines or voices of others getting in the way of Mother Nature's song right now. The only other instrument is the sound of Cyrus' quiet breathing, but, personally, I think that makes the song better. 

"I found out who the guy in the photo is," I explain. "It's my dad."

"Haven't you seen your dad before?" Cyrus wonders. 

I shake my head, my eyes falling down to the flowers below. 

"My mom said she lost all the photos of him," I say. "Turns out she lied about that. She also lied about him being dead. He actually never knew I existed."

"Your mom didn't tell him about you? Why?"

"Because he was married," I answer bluntly. "And not to her."

Cyrus sucks in a breath and says, "Oh."

"My dad was just an unfaithful prick who didn't want me at all," I mutter.

I feel Cyrus' eyes on me while I pick at the paint on the railing with my fingernail. It doesn't matter that he's not saying anything. I don't know what he could possibly say to help make things better at this point. He can't change the past. He can't go back and make my father want me. He can't go back and stop me from being born and wrecking the image of the perfect family my dad wanted to uphold. 

Eventually, Cyrus does speak, and what he says gives me chills. "Your dad missed out on something amazing."

Then I'm knocked off guard by Cyrus' hand sliding into mine and locking into place. I look up at him, wondering if he's meaning to do this or if this is just some really complicated accident. He couldn't be holding hands with me. This is just his pity. Though his gentle smile calms my nerves, my heartbeat speeds up tenfold. Whether this is real or not, I can't bring myself to let go, so I let him pull me down so deep until I know I'll need his help to swim back up again later.

A/N: Sorry this took so long. I had a hair crises. I got my hair dyed, but I wanted it light brown, but the lady wanted to make it dark, and I was too passive to say no, so now I have dark hair, and I absolutely hate it so much. I've been crying for the past day every time I walk by a mirror. So now I'm going to get it fixed. Please wish me luck. (Three hours later) Okay, I got it fixed. I like it a lot more now. Life is dandy again. I love you all. Have a good day!