Daddy’s Angel by K.A Knight

Tyler

Iwatch her go, my heart in tatters. I took the already cracked, broken organ and slammed it into the floor. My angel is crying, upset, and hurt. She thinks I don’t love her, she thinks I blame her. I saw it in her eyes.

I don’t.

I blame myself. I ruined my son’s life with my own desires and selfishness. I broke his heart and took everything away, and now he’s dead. I can’t ruin her life too. I won’t do that to the love of my life. She deserves better, needs better than a broken man destined to break everything.

I hurt her, I broke her heart.

But it’s better I do it before her life is wrecked like mine. Better that she hates me now. I couldn’t stand to see that love in her eyes fade to hate and then pain. Couldn’t stand to watch her fall out of love with me.

So even though it kills me, I let her go. I gave my angel her wings back, and now she’s gone. And I’m alone. My bed is cold, so I curl over to her side, smelling her sweetness there, cuddling into her pillow as more tears fall.

For the love I’ve lost.

And the family as well.

My life has gone from incredible, the happiest I’ve ever been, to completely broken. And the one woman who could have helped me through it and held me together is the one I just hurt to keep her safe, but she won’t see it that way.

Eventually, she will hate me for tonight, and I will have to accept that.

I have to go on, but without her and Justin…it all seems so pointless.

* * *

I haven’t been to work in days. My house is a mess, and I can’t bring myself to answer the phone for anyone. I just drink and read back the messages between Lexi and me. Seeing pictures of us together.

I’m grieving more than my son, but the life I was going to have with her.

The funeral is tomorrow, and I honestly don’t know how I’m going to do this without her. To stand up there alone and watch him be buried. His mum will be there, but we don’t really speak and she has taken this hard. She wants nothing to do with me, blaming me as well.

My dad is going to be there, but I can’t bring myself to face him either. Does he not see the disappointment his son is? Can they not see the pain in my eyes and the guilt in every line of my body?

Tossing my phone across the room, I stumble to my feet and into the kitchen. I fill my glass and throw it back, but not even the burn of the alcohol can numb me from the emotions swirling through me like a tornado. I slam my hand into the wall, watching as it cracks, leaving a hole there. Pulling back my fists, I see my knuckles have split open and blood drips to the floor.

I didn’t even feel it over my emotional pain.

So I do it again, hitting harder with each punch and screaming as I let it all out, and when I fall back to the floor, blood coats both hands and there are holes in my wall. And I still don’t feel better.

Tomorrow will be the worst day of my life, and the only thing I can think of to make it better would be having my angel at my side. But I ruined that too, and now I’m completely alone and will spend the rest of my life like that.

I will die alone. At least I won’t break anyone’s heart when I do.

Angel, I’m sorry.