I approach my father while he’s sitting on the deck at the back of our house, drinking his favorite beer, watching the sunset.

I sit beside him on a wooden lounger. Mom used to sit here with him every afternoon.

I let silence stretch as we both watch the sun slowly sink like a ball of fire into the mountains.

“I miss Mom,” I say quietly.

Dad doesn’t say a word.

“I remember, you both sat together here in the same spot every afternoon, watching the same sunset for years. You never got tired watching it. I used to wonder what was so special about sunset. Sure, it’s really awesome, but seeing the same thing over and over must get old fast. But there you were, sitting next to each other in comfortable silence, holding hands, watching the sunset. And now I know why.”

My father takes a swig from his beer and still doesn’t say anything.

“It wasn’t the sunset. It was you and Mom. Those were your special moments together, just sitting here quietly in the presence of each other. You made the sunset extraordinary everyday. Those were memories I’ll cherish for the rest of my life. I grew up witnessing it and I finally understand. It was here where you told Mom quietly how much you loved her after a long day’s work, and it was here where she let you feel you were her soulmate for life.”

My father sighs deeply.

“I want to have the same sunset you had with Mom, Dad. I want to have it with the man I love with all my heart. I want to spend the rest of my life with him holding my hand, and I want to tell him everyday that he’s my soulmate. You found Mom when you were in high school. I found out I was in love with Ry at pretty much the same age. But does it matter what age we find our soulmates? What matters most is we found them, and we have the chance to love them and be loved back by them in return. I want my own sunset, Dad. Please, understand. What I have with Ry is not a passing fancy. It’s what you had with Mom. I deserve my sunset, Dad.”

My father remains silent. I glance at him and he’s staring hard at the sunset now, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

My chest clenches. I’m making him remember Mom and it hurts me to see him cry again.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I know you miss her so much. I miss her so much, too, but she’s gone and we have to move on with our lives. But you can’t ask me to do the same with Ry. Ry is still alive. He loves me and I love him and we deserve to be together. I want a life with him.”

Dad sighs deeply.

I take his hand and squeeze it.

“I’ll always be here for you, Dad, no matter what. I’ll always be your daughter. I’ll never leave you.”

I feel him squeeze my hand back, but he says nothing.

I spend a few minutes with him until the sun has fully sunk, leaving just a shimmer of orange in the horizon. Then I leave him to his solitude, praying it wouldn’t be such anymore, if only he will give himself a chance to live again.

I grip the steering wheel hard as my truck eats up the interstate. I’m going to Phoenix to get my girl.

I hope Jerry won’t kill me for it. I still hope he still loves me enough as a brother even though I betrayed him in the most unforgivable way.

I wrote him a letter a day after he took Rizzy with him. I’m sure Jerry has read it by now. I poured my heart out into that letter. Brother to brother. Man to man.

I made him remember where our friendship started and why it is important to me that I have his wholehearted acceptance of my relationship with his daughter, because without it, I don’t think Rizzy and I would be truly happy.

I lost my way during my teens. My parents were divorced, hated each other. I was displaced one too many times as my mother who got custody of me married thrice and ended up divorced every time. My father couldn’t care less about me. I felt alone and lonely, mostly left to my own devices. Too much freedom and lack of parental guidance led me to drugs.

I went into the deep end. I stole from my friends, from my family. I robbed houses with a notorious gang from the ghetto. I was a cancer of society, and at that time, fast descending into the pits. I was taking too much drugs it was a wonder I survived.

My body finally gave up one night. I collapsed in the middle of a burglary attempt.

That was when I met Jerry. It was his house I was going to rob while high as a kite.

I was seventeen. The law could have prosecuted me when I turned 18, but Jerry didn’t press charges. Instead, he supported me, a total stranger, when I went to rehab.

That was a miracle, the single most significant event in my life. The turning point.

I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve that second chance.

I found a friend. A best friend.

It was Jerry who turned my life around. He gave me a new purpose.

Jerry cared. He genuinely did.

After rehab, he took me into his life without question, introduced me to his lovely wife and beautiful daughter. Rizzy was only a toddler when I became a member of their family.

I’d asked Jerry why he did it. Why he helped save me.

He said that I was his contribution to society. A life saved from the abyss of depression. A new productive life who’d have the chance to save others, too. Most important of all, Jerry told me I gave his life more meaning and purpose.

Jerry taught me a lot about life. He’s my ultimate hero.

That seems a long time ago but there’s not a day that I don’t thank God for Jerry. Without him, I probably wouldn’t be alive today. But I have to make him understand that I will die everyday if I can’t have Rizzy.

I sigh and glance at the digital clock on the dashboard.

Three more hours.