The Widow's Cabin (Completed)

Chapter 21

I sat on the couch in the living room and waited for my father that night. Hendrix drove me to the house and insisted that he stayed with me. I declined his offer and he decided not to push it. After I heard Hendrix's car drive off, silence swallowed me whole.

I thought about my mother. How she was just so close and yet so far. I came to the cabin almost every day, but I never thought that she owned the place all along. I blamed myself for not looking hard enough, and I blamed myself for trusting my father. All these years, everything he told me were just well-fabricated lies.

Trust. That word again. All these years I distrusted my mother, when it was my father who made a fool out of me all along. Then there is Vittoria. I trusted her that day, when she said she'd come back for me. But she never did. Philip never saw her that day, and so did Hendrix. I guessed she just took off. She left me waiting and confused. Trust. That's what it does to you. It made you vulnerable and stupid.

"Caleb," my father whispered as he entered the door. I never heard him approach, maybe because I was lost in my thoughts.

"Sit down, dad," I answered.

I felt him sit beside me as he sobbed.

"How, dad? How can you do this to me? All these years I was searching for answers, you told me nothing but lies."

"I was afraid, son. I was afraid you'd hate me. I was afraid you'd judge me. Dammit I was so afraid," he cried.

"I thought you loved her dad, I thought you loved mom. How can you possibly do that?"

"I... I was disoriented, son. I was drunk. I couldn't control myself. I... I guessed I was a monster, you know? I loved her so much, but then I cannot help but hurt her every time she made one goddamn mistake."

"You took my mother away from me, dad. You killed her. I was motherless for eleven years because of you. You took her away from me, and got away with it."

"I'm sorry son. I'm so sorry. There was never a day that I didn't regret what I did. Every day, I am being haunted by what I did. I'm sorry, I was a coward. I'm sorry I was selfish. I'm sorry I took your mother away from you. I'm sorry I didn't have the courage to tell you, because I was afraid you couldn't handle the truth."

Silence.

"Well, I'm old enough dad. I can handle the truth now," I said, as I heard the sirens wailing from afar.