“What should we be talking about right now?” I arched a playful eyebrow. I didn’t want this to be heavy and sad.
He looked out the window, shaking his head. “I don’t know. About you?”
“We know everything there is to know about me. I’m the least interesting subject in this household, and the most depressing one, too.”
“How can you be so calm about this?” He scratched at his jaw, the fine whiskers growing over it light brown dustings.
“First of all, this is not without hard work, trust me.” I winked. “And second of all, I have faith in my plans for the three of you. I just need you to promise me one little thing.”
“Okay.” He sat up straight, eyeing me curiously.
I put my hand on his. “You stopped drinking.”
“I did.”
“You stopped with the pills, too.”
“That’s right.”
“And you’re going to the counselor Dad found for you?”
“Like clockwork,” he gritted out.
“She will never be yours if you go back to the way it was.”
“I know.” His voice broke. “I know that, Mom. I know.”
“Promise me, then.”
“I promise. No more binging. No more benders. No more alcohol and pills. I won’t even take a Tylenol next time I’m sick.”
Silence. I had to tread carefully around this one. I didn’t want him suspecting anything, didn’t want this part of the conversation to tarnish everything else we’d said. I knew he’d forgive me in time, down the line. But not now. And I couldn’t burden him with more anger and disappointment for a second as long as I had my breath in me.
“Can I give you one other piece of advice?”
“Of course, Mom.”
“The grudges you hold against people? Drop them. They’re not worth your anger. They keep you anchored to a place you shouldn’t be.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“No, I can’t. But I can tell you one last thing.”
“Okay.”
I took his hand. Put the back of it against my lips. Smiled through my tears. “Parents are not supposed to have favorites,” I started.
I knew my confession wasn’t going to leave the walls of this room. Knight loved Lev with everything he had in him. He was a wonderful brother who’d volunteered to teach Levy’s entire football team. He’d covered for Lev dozens of times when he’d sneaked into Bailey’s house, and vice versa.
“But I do, Knight. I have a favorite. I love you so brutally, sometimes I’d lay awake at night wondering if you were the thing that kept me going when I couldn’t do it anymore. When the pain was too much. I don’t want you to ever feel you were less.”
“I never felt that way.” He smiled calmly, cupping my cheeks and staring deep into my eyes. “I never felt like I didn’t belong. Not even for a hot second. I always knew you were my home. I’m just worried about what being homeless will do to me.”
“You will never be homeless, my darling boy. You will always have a home. I will be with you, even after I draw my last breath. Remember, my love. The sun will rise tomorrow. It always does. And don’t you dare live one day of your life without basking in its glory. If you truly love me, you will respect my legacy. You will wake up tomorrow morning. You will grieve the loss of me. But, with time, you will smile. You will laugh. You will live. You will push through and conquer your desires. You’ll get your girl back, because she loves you, and you love her, and I’ve seen you from childhood—you were born for each other. You will give me beautiful grandchildren, whom I will watch over from heaven. And every summer rain, you will know it’s me, saying I love you.”
“Mom. Mom. Mom.” He buried his head in my chest, wrapping his huge arms around me. “I’m not ready to let go.”
“Go and save your princess, my love.” I kissed his forehead. “She is waiting. Besides, that’s what knights do.”
It was when my husband entered our room that I finally broke down.
I was exhausted from being strong. Strong for Emilia. For Lev. For Knight. I knew Dean was in a state no less upset than they were, but with one distinguished difference: he had always been my protector. He’d always had my back. It was inspiring to watch as he’d fought with doctors, sought out specialists from all over the world, and turned every rock, checked every corner, until we’d exhausted our options on how to fight my disease.