Daddy’s Angel by K.A Knight
Lexi
Today is the day we say goodbye to Justin. No matter what he did, I will still be there today for Tyler, even if he doesn’t want me there. Justin’s slate doesn’t get wiped clean because he’s dead, but his father is the love of my life. And whether he knows it or not, he needs me, even if it’s just to understand or meet his eyes for one moment.
Even if I’ve cried all week since we broke up. Since he took my heart and broke it so effortlessly. I thought he was just in pain, but he hasn’t reached out since, and with each passing day, I feel the finality of the end of our relationship.
I thought he was my future, my forever, when I never really expected to find one. He loves—loved me for me. Supported me. He was kind and caring, so fucking exciting, but maybe our relationship started for a bad reason, so ending it for a bad reason makes sense.
Staring at myself in the mirror, I tug down the calf-length, tight black dress. It clings to my curves with long sleeves and a slight V-neck. I add a black cardigan and some heels. My makeup is done, and my hair pushed back in a chignon at the base of my neck.
My eyes are puffy and red, but I can’t help that. I cried in the shower this morning. My heart was aching so much, I couldn’t breathe, so I fell to my knees and rocked back and forth, trying to suck in air. Trying to numb the physical aches from my broken heart.
I want to curl in a ball and cry it all out, but I can’t, because I still love him. Today is the worst day for him, so even if he hates me for it, gets mad or tells me to leave, I’m going, because he’s my Tyler…
My daddy.
* * *
The funeral is held at the little local church, set out of the city between rolling fields. The sun shines down in the church, which has a cottage feeling to it. I have to walk through a small brown gate and stone archway crawling with flowers, across an old cobblestone path, and up to the big, old, brown double doors of the building, which provide a glimpse into the past. The church itself is old grey brick, with a high, arched, stained glass window above the door and set around it.
There is a leaflet passed out as we enter with Justin’s picture and an epitaph. Inside the church, there are large stone arches featuring crosses and old carved tombs with dates and names on them. In between are two rows of pews, which are an old, wooden style with the cushions to kneel on hooked on the back of the pew in front.
At the back of the church is a table with a collection plate and more leaflets for Justin. There is no coffin or body here—it’s probably already in the ground—but everyone is dressed in black and the church is very full.
I stand there awkwardly, my fists clenched around the leaflet and my bag, unsure where to go. Where to sit. I spot Tyler at the front, his back rounded where he sits on the first pew. His black suit stretches across his built shoulders, his dark head is bowed, and there is no one else around him. He looks so alone, my heart cracks. I want to reach for him, to comfort him, but I don’t think he would want me to. Tears fill my eyes, my stomach rolls, and my heart bleeds. I’m unable to look away from him, the man I love.
The man who broke my heart.
But in here, his own lies in tatters, and no matter how everything went down, it pains me to see him hurting.
Hurting and alone.
Just then, I feel a touch on my elbow, and I spin around to meet Tyler’s dad’s sad eyes. He’s in a black suit, and his face is drawn. He looks older today. His wife is at his side in a black dress similar to mine. When I meet his gaze, he smiles at me softly. “Want to sit with us?”
I lick my lips and look at Tyler and then his dad, his eyes filled with a thousand unspoken words. He seems to understand because he nods. “I will sit with him so he isn’t alone. Please know you are welcome with us though, Lexi. He’s just hurting.” His eyes go to his son then, filled with pain. “Don’t give up on him. He blames himself, and he’s a mess. He needs you now more than ever, but he won’t make it easy.” He squeezes my arm and takes his wife’s hand and heads down the pews to Tyler. As soon as he reaches his side, Tyler stands and they embrace. Tyler buries his head in his dad’s shoulder, his back shaking.
Swallowing, I turn away before I start to sob, and instead, take a seat on the back pew alone. Others mingle, talking softly. I hear the words tragedy, so sudden, stricken, and so much more. Each word makes me hunch my shoulders for even being here.
Because I’m not here for Justin, I’m here for Tyler.
Eventually, the church fills and everyone takes their seats as the vicar walks to the front to start the service. He stops at Tyler and his dad, who are still standing and talking. He shakes their hands and speaks for a moment before stepping up to the podium at the front.
Tyler turns to look where to sit and our eyes clash. Those usually dark orbs are lightened with grief. He has bags under his eyes, and his face is drawn and sagging in exhaustion and pain. He looks nothing like my Tyler.
He looks broken.
For a moment, everything else fades away, everything but our locked gazes.
A stare that tells me a million things. I see his pain, his grief, his guilt…and his acceptance. He thinks this is what he deserves. He’s resigned. Then he turns away and sits, freeing me of his gaze. I sag, breathing heavily as tears drip down my cheeks, while my heart breaks all over again.
We might as well have been strangers, not lovers, not the man who knows my fears and dreams. Who held me when I cried, when I was happy. Who made me laugh, who supported and loved me.
I am nothing, just another ghost in this place.
He turned away so easily, while I’m struggling not to run to him, to beg him to take me back, to forgive me. Blame me, hate me, anything apart from this coldness. I’d take his anger, his pain. I’d let him paint it across my body like a declaration.
But I stay locked in my seat, head bowed, while I try to control my emotions as the vicar reads from the bible.
I miss nearly all of the service, I’m so lost in my pain, but when they stand to sing, I do too, mumbling over the lyrics. When they start to file from the church, I follow numbly with my arms wrapped around myself.
We head down the marked path around the church, through some iron gates, and to the cemetery next door. I follow the procession to the plot under a tree. The soil is already turned. Obviously, he’s already buried there. There’s no headstone yet. The vicar circles us and begins to speak again as I search the crowd. I nod at his dad and then watch Tyler. He’s standing alone at the base of the grave, staring at it. His face is locked in pain, each line causing a wave to wash through me until I can’t stop myself.
I move across the ground towards him, stumbling as I walk, unable to look away to see where I’m going. He’s the center of my world, and I have to get to him and help him, support him. Make this better if I can.
No parent should ever have to bury their child, to watch their life end and feel the broken shatters of it remaining in their chest like a constant reminder.
I reach his side. He flinches but doesn’t even glance up to see who it is. But I know he senses me the way we always sense each other. His arm hangs at his side, and I slide closer, pressing my hand to his. I squeeze, trying to let him know without words I’m here.
I’m his.
For a moment, nothing happens, then slowly, ever so slowly, his hand curls around mine. My heart starts to soar, and those broken shards begin to knit back together. All from one touch.
But a split-second later, he pushes my hand away, shaking off my touch, and without a look at anyone, he turns and storms away. Those fragile sections of my heart crumble all over again, dropping down through my body and leaving gaping wounds behind. I stare after him, my heart in the ground with Justin, as he climbs into his car and speeds away.
I turn, unable to stop myself, as tears stream down my face. I watch him go, but when I turn back, everyone is staring after him too, until their accusing eyes move to me. All of them stare at me, blaming me, until I can almost hear their judgement and thoughts. All but his dad, who watches me with a sad knowing look. Their weighted stares cause me to stumble back, their judgement coating my skin like oil, dripping over me until I can barely breathe or think. Swallowing, my heart hammering and shooting pain through my chest, I glance around before ducking my head and rushing back through the cemetery to the church and my car.
Once there, I rip open the door and slide in, slamming it behind me as I press my head to the wheel. My hands shake as the sobs finally erupt, tearing from me as if flowing from the very depths of my heart. Tears blur my vision, snot drips from my nose, and my lips quiver as broken sounds leave my lips.
I scream and thrash, punching the wheel before wiping at my face, smearing my makeup everywhere, but I don’t care. He left. He walked away like I was nothing, leaving me there to face the consequences of my actions.
He left.
It’s a broken chant that my heart repeats until I can’t take it anymore. I wipe my face with shaky fingers before brushing strands of stray hair back to be able to see.
I start the engine and reverse, barely looking at where I’m going.
In fact, I don’t remember most of the drive, but I’m home, and when I see my door is finally fixed, I slide down the hallway wall, staring at it with tears streaming down my face. He fixed my door. I mentioned before…before Justin’s death that it still wasn’t hanging right after it was hung after Justin broke it, and now it’s fixed. Even on the worst day of his life, he got someone here to fix my door, to make sure I was safe. Sitting there sobbing, I start to shiver in the cold, so I stumble to my feet, move to the door, unlock it, and shut it behind me.
I see the new security system, and a sob lodges in my throat—even now, he’s protecting me.
I rush down the corridor, stumbling on my heels before stopping halfway to rip them off. I throw them with a scream, watching as they sail through the air. One smashes through the plaster of the wall before falling to the floor.
Uncaring, I march down the corridor and into the bathroom, stripping as soon as I’m there. My black dress pools on the ground at my feet, forgotten just like me.
Tears still fall as I climb into the shower and flick it on, flinching at the cold spray as I press my hands to the wall and sob. I let the sound of the cascading water drown out my pain.
But it’s too much. I feel like I’m being ripped apart as I slide to the floor of the shower and curl into my body, heaving with sobs.
He left me.
My Tyler is gone…and all that’s left is the memory of us.
* * *
Hours later, I’m over being hurt. Now I’m just numb and lonely. More than that, I need to move, to do something, to get out of my head and forget, so I make a stupid, split-second decision. I get dressed and rush out to the club, wanting to forget my problems, reverting back to my old ways.
Find love in a stranger’s arms.
I dance to the thumping music, throwing myself into it so I don’t have to think, to feel. The pounding bass drowns out even the pounding of my heart. Hands crawl across my curves from all sides, but I close my eyes and ignore them. I just move, just feel the music, the touches, and revel in not being alone.
He left.
It echoes through my heart like an accusation, so I down another drink and dance harder, letting the music conceal my fear and pain.
But then there’s a whistle and a scuffle, and when I open my eyes, I meet Allegra’s gaze. I stare at her. My pulse is pounding from dancing, sweat slicks my body, and I feel the dirty warmth left behind from strangers’ groping hands…and it’s still not enough. One look at her, and it all comes roaring back, and I know no matter what I do, how much I drink, or who I fuck to try and forget…I never will.
How can I forget the one I am destined to be with? How can I forget the feeling of true love?
I can’t, I just have to find a way to survive.
I gulp, stilling my swinging hips as Allegra watches me in concern before leaning in. “Babe, what are you doing here? Everything okay? You look like you’ve been crying.”
I don’t know if it’s the simple question, or if it’s the fact I can see the concern on her face… She genuinely wants to know if I’m okay, but my lip starts to quiver again. Her eyes flicker down to it, and she sighs before grabbing my hand. She leads me from the dance floor and down a hallway to the bathroom, and then she slams the door and locks it behind us to the disgruntled glares of the women there before cupping my cheeks.
“What’s going on, babe? You’ve been off work, and now I see you here looking like this?” she questions.
“He broke up with me,” I whisper pathetically. “Justin died… I, erm…” I shake my head with a bitter laugh, leaning back against the sticky porcelain sink. “He died and Tyler broke up with me, and I just don’t know how to deal with it. I’ve never had my heart broken before,” I admit and meet her kind eyes. “I love him so much, and it hurts so badly. How do I get it to stop? How can I survive this?”
She sighs and hugs me. “Shh, it’s okay. The hurt is good. When the hurt stops, that’s the worst part, because it means it’s truly over and you’re healing. Live in the pain for now, because it means it’s real, it happened. But you will survive, I promise you that, Lex. Hearts heal, sometimes stronger than before, sometimes as thin as paper that’s easily shredded so they have to be protected,” she mutters as if to herself before carrying on. “I’ve been where you are—left, alone, lost, and broken. But it gets better. Each day that passes, it will get easier, but getting drunk and fucking random men won’t help. For the night, you will feel good, but in the daylight, you will be filled with regret and those emotions will still be waiting for you.”
I pull back, and she wipes my tears with some tissue and brushes my hair from my face in an almost motherly way. “You promise…you promise it gets easier?” I whisper.
She nods slowly. “It does, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt right now.” Allegra smiles sadly. “How about we get you home? If you really wanna drink, I’ll do it with you. Hell, we can trash him if you want to. Does he have a small dick? Weird fetishes?” she teases.
I laugh through the tears and wipe my face, stumbling on the ridiculous heels I yanked on earlier without a thought. “No, he has a huge dick and…fuck, he’s amazing. I can’t trash him.”
She sighs. “Too bad. Thin, small dicks are easier to get over.” She winks at me. “It’s always the bastards who can fuck well that ruin us. Let me get us home, and you can tell me everything.”
“Thank you,” I whisper when she wraps her arms around me as sudden exhaustion fills me. Her hug is better than a million touches from strangers. It feels right because she cares, she’s holding me together when I can’t do it myself. Her strength promises me it gets better, even if I can’t see the light right now.
“No thanks needed, babe. We’re friends, you just forgot that for a moment. Life goes on, Lexi, just don’t let it go on for too long without you.”
Life goes on…it’s true.
But how do I move on with a life I no longer want?
Tyler and the life we were building together was what I wanted, and now that I’m back to this emptiness, I know it’s not what I want.
How do I deal with that?
Is this what growing up and getting stronger feels like?
If so, it sucks.
