23.Him

After the heartache, Evangeline had gone through and the sympathy of officer Dalton, she had gone to sleep and I watched her to avoid my urge to sleep due to terrifying nightmares of her dad haunting me. The guilt was my best friend now.

"I wish I could take your pain away, baby," I whispered as my heart broke to millions when I saw her ultimate breakdowns, "It's all my fault, I admit it, we shouldn't have met each other but I don't regret every second with you by my side." I poured my heart out as my eyes took in her cracked lips to her red nose and down to her tear-stained neck.

I wish I had met her at the right time. None of this should have happened to her. My eyes screamed for sleep but I couldn't give in to it, I wouldn't want to scare Evangeline with my nightmares so I stood up and walked out after I closed the door gently.

I dialed the man I met at Julliard and waited for him to answer the phone. After three ringtones, he answered with a gruff hello.

"Hey, I know I woke you up but I need you to delay the appointment you had set for Evangeline, she-" I closed my eyes and re-opened them as I sighed and continued slowly, "she lost her father so I will tell you when the time is right."

"I'm sorry for her loss but I can't do anything about the appointment, either she comes on Monday or she will lose her chance." I cursed in my head at the man's words and wanted to bash the phone on the wall but I just had to calm down in order not to wake my girl up.

"Look, you don't know that she didn't attend because she was by my side at the hospital," I snapped, "it's my mistake but I want to mend it by requesting a delay to your appointment because her dad died and I promise she will be worth your time," I said. There was no reply and I thought he hung up on me until he replied once again.

"I can tell this means as much to you as to her but the solution is to travel to meet me with Evangeline to England after a month, that's all I could do for you."

How the hell can I afford the tickets? I groaned in frustration, ignoring the fact that the man heard it.

"Okay, we will be there," I answered and hung up. Determination brightened my eyes as I tried to think of ways to earn money. I could always work at my grandfather's luxurious hotel at the end of Michigan. It would be worth the ride and the long hours.

My grandfather, Mike Adams, was the only wealthy member of our family and he was snarky. He was the type to trick you into a job by his talents of persuasion. I scrolled through my phone until my finger stopped on his name.

"What the fuck is up with you? Who wakes up this early in an ungodly hour to talk to me?" He screamed as I tried to rub my eyes with my free hand.

"Hey, gramps, nice to have a pleasant talk with you." I could hear the gasp on the other side of the line when I talked. He didn't even save my number on his phone because I never asked anything to my mother's dad. We drifted apart since her death. Her whole family was separated by their own world of grief.

"Son, finally you have the balls to talk to me!" I cringed at his excited tone of voice, "wait, why did you call me again?" I chuckled as I scratched the back of my head.

"Well, I kind of wanted to ask about employing me in your hotel." I nervously stated. The silence was awkward and my sweaty state didn't help much.

"Absolutely, son, I will call you later for the job interview so we could find a suitable job for you to do in the hotel." Hope settled within me like a serene afternoon in Michigan when my gramps said that.

"Oh, and another thing-" I started but I was interrupted.

"Shoot son." He quickly replied. How was I supposed to tell him that I killed my dad? The only reason officer Dalton accepted to let me go was that Evange needed me. I had to face court after the funeral as charges dropped off of Evange since her record was clean and mine wasn't.

"I killed my dad." Finding no other way to explain this, I blurted out to gramps, waiting for the scream of shock.

"Well, about damn time son." My mouth dropped open as my eyes widened.

"I thought you were going to shout at me," I admitted.

"I never liked that man ever since he beat your mother to death." I sighed as I remembered and agreed with his words. He was never a father figure to me.

"Yea, I never liked my dad either," I confessed I tried to think that there was a good side to like about my dad but I found none. He beat me up with a metal cane when I was eight years old, he never allowed me to play with my friends and he stepped on my hand as punishment.

"You really should come by, I missed you son." He noted. A heavy feeling came over me as the reason for me not visiting came to light. My grandfather's house was filled with her memories. I had memory phobia, I didn't want to face that anymore.

"Sure." I lied.

"I raped you to give birth to a wimpy kid," my dad shouted as my seven year old tears went down my cheeks when he screamed in mom's face, "I don't even love you."

"He isn't wimpy," Mom defended as her dress was ripped on the floor, "he's my son." She smiled at me with tears rolling down from her eyes.