What's for Breakfast?

Fourteen: Running Away

I imprison Derek around my arms until he ceases crying, falling asleep out of exhaustion. Once I release him, being careful not to disturb his slumber, I wipe away my own tears and tuck him snugly beneath his sheets.

I've never thought that Derek has this other side of him. Heck, I probably never knew him at all. My whole perception of him has shifted, and I feel so dense for not realizing how much he's been suffering.

Perhaps he was drunk, but it didn't matter. Derek has opened up to me. He let me in.

I crouch near the bed, wiping his last tear with my thumb. Derek needs someone to listen to him, and I'm willing to be that person. Even as a friend. If it's all I can do to alleviate his pain, then I'll take it.

"Derek, it's alright. I'm here."

******

The first thing I think of as soon as I gain consciousness is Derek. Still feeling a little disoriented, I bolt upright, immediately freaking out at the realization that I'd fallen asleep next to him.

What happened?

Oh. Right.

I massage my temples as it registers I actually made the decision to stay with him. In case.

Derek's still sound asleep. Good. I gingerly arrange the pillow underneath his head, my gaze tracing his features, the memories of last night flooding in.

I had no idea about the extent of his troubled relationship with his father. I never expected it would devastate him to this extent. The burden of keeping his father's affair a secret for five long years must have shattered something inside him.

My mood plummets, the bones in my body aching once more as the image of Derek breaking down reappears. Derek didn't deserve that. He shouldn't have had to become complicit in his father's adultery.

I roll onto my side, propping my chin up with my palm, lost in a sea of thoughts.

Derek left for abroad at the age of 21, so he knew about it since he was 16 or 17. His already difficult situation was further compounded by his mother's battle with cancer, which tragically resulted in her passing away the same year when he was only 20. Just six months later, his father, Uncle James, remarried.

It was different from Patrick and I's situation. Both our parents agreed to end their marriage after elementary school, and both are still alive and well. We were fortunate in comparison.

I decide to get up and wash my face. Next, I head to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. I make scrambled eggs and French toast, and I also brew coffee. While waiting for Derek, I clean up the mess in the living room, then I take the chance to browse the internet. I type the effects of the infidelity of parents to children on Google and press enter, clicking on the first link.

"Distrust... Shame... Promiscuity..." I murmur, scanning the information from the website. I picture Derek as I read, and it steadily makes sense to me.  It's not entirely implausible that his behaviors and womanizing tendencies stem from personal trauma and deep-rooted trust issues. Perhaps his actions can be seen as a coping mechanism of sorts. At least, that's what the internet claims.

Alright, alright! I'm rationalizing. I shouldn't believe everything I see on the internet. I simply want to stop judging and start understanding him, that's all. This does not excuse Derek's actions, yet what I've learned about him has altered my perception of him. There's a reason. A valid one. Derek has a vulnerable side I've never seen before because he's always been so... Ebullient. He acts strong all the time.

I'm so immersed in the articles that I almost jump when he suddenly comes out of his room.

"Sam?" he calls, voice croaky. "Where are you?"