Chapter 75 THE FATHER I DIDNʻT HAVE
Alex
Alex’s grip tightened on the phone. “My father? I haven’t spoken to him in years.”
“He listed you as his emergency contact. You need to come. He’s in critical condition.”
“What happened?”
“Heart attack. He’s in surgery now. That’s all I can tell you over the phone.”
After hanging up, Alex just stood there. Numb.
“What’s wrong?” Elias asked.
“My father. He’s in the hospital. In Oregon. They want me to come.”
“When’s the last time you talked to him?”
“Eight years. Since I was fifteen. Since he left.”
“Do you want to go?”
“I don’t know. Part of me doesn’t care. He abandoned us. Why should I care if he’s dying?”
“And the other part?”
“Feels guilty for not caring. Feels like I should go. Just in case.”
“Then we’ll go. Together. You don’t have to face this alone.”
They packed quickly. Booked flights for the next morning. Drove to the airport at dawn.
Oregon was cold. Grey. Nothing like Alex remembered from childhood.
The hospital was small, sterile, smelled like antiseptic and bad coffee.
“I’m here for John Lee,” Alex told the desk.
“Room 412. Fourth floor.”
In the elevator, Alex’s hands were shaking. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You can. I’m right here.”
Room 412. Door closed. Machines are beeping from inside.
Alex knocked. A nurse opened. “Are you family?”
“I’m his son. Alex.”
“Come in. He’s been asking for you.”
The man in the bed looked nothing like Alex remembered. Older. Smaller. Tubes everywhere. Weak.
“Alex?” His father’s voice was barely a whisper.
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“You came. I didn’t think you would.”
“I almost didn’t.”
His father’s eyes moved to Elias. “Who’s this?”
“Elias. My fiancé.”
A flicker of something crossed his father’s face. Surprise maybe. “You’re engaged?”
“Yes.”
“To a man?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
His father was quiet. Then: “No. I just. I didn’t know.”
“You would have if you’d stayed in touch.”
“I know. I’m sorry for leaving, for everything.”
Alex’s jaw tightened. “Why did you call me here? After eight years of nothing?”
“Because I’m dying. The doctor says I have days. Maybe weeks. I wanted to see you. To apologize.”
“Apologize for what? Abandoning Mom? Abandoning me? Which part?”
“All of it. I was a coward. Couldn’t handle the divorce. Couldn’t handle life. So I ran. Moved to Oregon. Started over. Pretended my old life didn’t exist.”
“And now?”
“Now I regret of it. I missed your whole life. Your graduation. Your achievements. Everything.”
“You missed a lot more than that. You missed me being bullied. Mom is working two jobs. Me figuring out I was gay alone. All of it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix eight years.”
His father started coughing. The nurse rushed over. “You need to rest. Keep it short.”
Outside, Alex leaned against the wall. His whole body was shaking.
“You okay?” Elias asked.
“No. But I will be.”
“Do you want to leave? We don’t have to stay.”
“I know. But I should. Just in case.”
They got a hotel nearby. Spent the next three days visiting. Brief conversations of apologies, explanations that didn’t quite explain.
“Tell me about your life,” his father said on day three. “Your fiancé. How you meet?”
Alex told a shortened version. Letters. Library. Love. Leaving out the harassment. The fights. The pain.
“You seem happy,” his father said.
“I am. Despite everything.”
“I’m glad. You deserve to be happy.”
“Do I? After everything?”
“Everyone deserves to be happy. Even people who’ve been hurt.”
On day four, his father asked to speak to Elias alone.
“Is that okay?” Elias asked Alex.
“Yeah. Go. I’ll wait outside.”
Twenty minutes later, Elias emerged. His eyes are red.
“What happened?” Alex asked.
“He wanted to apologize. To me. For not being there for you. For missing your life. For making you grow up without a father.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him the truth. That you turned out amazing despite him. Not because of him.”
“Was he upset?”
“No. He agreed. Said he knew he didn’t deserve forgiveness. But he wanted to ask anyway.”
On day five, Alex’s father took a turn. The doctor said it was time. Hours maybe. Not days.
Alex sat by the bed. Holding his father’s hand. Complicated feelings warring inside.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” his father said. “For any of it.”
“I know.”
“I’m proud of you. For making something of yourself. For finding love. For being brave enough to be who you are.”
“Thanks.”
“Take care of him. Your Elias. He seems like a good person.”
“He is. The best.”
“Good. Everyone deserves that. Someone who shows up. Who stays. I’m sorry I wasn’t that for you.”
“Me too.”
His father died at 6 PM. Peaceful. Quiet. Just stopped breathing.
Alex sat there for a long time. Not crying. Just processing.
“How do you feel?” Elias asked in the car.
“Empty, sad, angry, relieved, all of it.”
“That’s normal.”
“Is it? To feel relieved that your father died?”
“He wasn’t really your father. Not in any way that mattered. Biologically, yes. But not where it counts.”
“I know. But it still hurts.”
“It’s allowed to hurt. Even when it’s complicated.”
They stayed for the funeral. Small. Just them and a few of his father’s Oregon friends. No one from his old life. No one who’d known him before.
“He really did start over,” Alex said. “Just erased us.”
“People do that. When they can’t face their mistakes.”
After, they flew home. Back to their house. Their life. Everything waiting.
“I’m glad you were there,” Alex said.
“Where else would I be?”
“I don’t know. But thank you. For coming. For being there. For all of it.”
“That’s what love is. Showing up. Even when it’s hard.”
“Even when it’s hard,” Alex echoed.
January passed. Alex is processing his father’s death. Working through complicated grief. Therapy helped. Elias helped. Time helped.
February brought planning. Real wedding planning. Venue booked. Invitations designed. Everything is moving forward.
“Are we really doing this?” Alex asked.
“We really are. This time nothing’s stopping us.”
“Famous last words.”
“Don’t jinx it.”
But nothing did stop them. No emergencies. No Carter. No drama.
Just planning, normal, perfect planning.
March brought dress fittings. Well, suit fittings. Both of them are in matching navy.
“We look good,” Elias said, looking in the mirror.
“We look like adults.”
“Terrifying.”
April brought bachelor parties. Des planned Alex’s. Katie planned Elias’s. Both reasonable. No strippers. No embarrassment. Just friends celebrating.
May brought Alex’s dissertation defense. Passed. Officially done with coursework.
“Doctor Lee,” Elias said. “Has a nice ring to it.”
“Not yet. Still need to finish writing.”
“You will. I know you will.”
June brought final wedding details. Flowers. Music. Menu. Everything is falling into place.
July brought nervousness. “What if something goes wrong?” Alex asked.
“Then we handle it. But nothing’s going to go wrong.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we’ve survived everything. We can survive a wedding.”
August 15th arrived. Clear sky. Warm sun. Perfect day.
The rose arch was decorated. Chairs arranged. Guests arriving.
Alex stood in the prep room. Shaking. Des is adjusting his tie.
“You good?” Des asked.
“Terrified.”
“That’s normal.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. You’re about to commit your life to someone. That’s scary.”
“What if I mess it up?”
“You won’t. You love him. He loves you. That’s all that matters.”
Music started. Time to go.
Alex walked to the arch. Elias is already there. Smiling. Crying. Perfect.
They said their vows. Personal. Honest. Real.
“I promise to choose you. Every day. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”
“I promise to stay. To fight. To build a life worth living. With you. Always with you.”
“You may now kiss.”
They did. While everyone cheered. While cameras flashed. While their future began.
At the reception, Alex’s mother hugged him. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks Mom.”
“Your father would have been too. Despite everything.”
“Maybe. I like to think so.”
That night, in their hotel room, Elias said, “We did it.”
“We’re married.”
“How does it feel?”
“Perfect. Scary. Right. All of it.”
“Good scary?”
“The best scary.”
They fell asleep as husbands. Finally. After four years. After everything.
Together. Always together.
The way they were always meant to be.
But in the morning, an email arrived.
From a publisher.
Wanting to turn their story into a book.
Every letter, every fight, every moment.
All of it.
For the world to read.