I sit inside the car for seconds, minutes, hours. I don't move until the pain in my chest has subsided and my breathing has normalized.

It has been years since I relived that horrific day. I inhale as much air as my lungs can take until I find the courage to step out of the car. Jerry can't harm me anymore. Enough time has passed. The dreams I had eight years ago have changed. I have built myself back up.

With my shoulders back, I walk with my head held high. My heart is racing rapidly, and there’s a soft humming in my ears when I pull on the glass door. The sterile scent hits me and I’m thrown off my axis.

It's all too familiar.

I spent months here. I was held prisoner. My mother didn’t want me home; she was unstable, as my father would say. He felt I was safer here. And the entire time, Jerry was being held only a few rooms away.

Bile rises in my throat and I push past it. I'm three steps through the doorway when my stomach drops completely. My eyes lock on his and I'm rooted to the ground. His eyes are hooded and I can see his hesitation. 

Slowly, I shake my head, not believing what I see. Ethan wouldn't come here. He never once visited when I was here. Even when I begged him to come. Never. 

"Les."

Before he can reach me, I'm out the door, gasping for air. 

"Leslie, wait . . .”

My ankle burns as I run to the car. My fidgety hand betrays me and I can't open the car door.

“Leslie, please," he begs. "Talk to me." 

"I need to go,” I whisper, hoping I can maintain my grace. 

"Let me explain."

“Explain?” I snap. “Fuck you and your stupid explanations. You're here to see him, your piece of shit father. Not once did you visit when I was trapped in here. Not once did you come to make sure I was okay. Never!" I slam my closed fists on his chest. "I needed you. I needed my boyfriend. I needed my best fucking friend." I cry out the last sentence on a sob, and my knees buckle.

Ethan wraps his arms around my body. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." Minutes pass before he lets me go. My cheeks are stained with tears, and I can't find the courage to look up at him. My gaze is glued to the scruff around his jawline. He runs his thumb along my cheek, brushing away a tear.

"He's dying,” he says. Stunned, I look up at him. "I've never been here before today. Never. I refused to visit him. My mother was checked into a psych ward and I was made responsible for him. 

“A part of me is angry he didn't die that day. That he now became an even a bigger burden on my life. I was wrong to never come and see you, but if I hadn’t hit Jerry with the crowbar, he would have never pulled down the shelf. It was my fault you broke your ankle and I couldn’t find the courage to face you." I shake my head, hating that he has carried this blame for so many years.

"It wasn't your fault,” I finally muster the courage to speak. “I should've never gone inside the garage."

Ethan presses his forehead to mine. "He's dying, and as his POA I had to sign the documents for them to turn off his life support. I hope he burns in fucking hell for everything he did."

The anger in Ethan’s voice is terrifying, and I realize that Jerry will always be a burden to us. Until we learn to let go, we will never be able to move on. "He’s dying?” Ethan nods. “Right now?”

“Soon I guess. Sometime today, I’d assume.”

My mind floods with every bit of anger Jerry has caused in my life. There is so much I’m holding on to and I realize until I can face my demons I will never be able to move forward. I chew on the inside of my cheek for a few minutes before I speak again. “Can we go see him?" I can’t believe what I just asked.

Ethan winces. "Les, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I feel as if he will have this hold on us for the rest of our lives. It’s something we will carry with us always.” I swallow and contemplate what I’m about to say. “Jerry broke me physically and emotionally, but I think I need to face him in order to move on, and in order to start fresh with you. We say we’re starting over, but are we really? I see you in this hospital and I have a panic attack. I need to face Jerry and forgive you.” I find the courage to look up at Ethan.

He sighs and kisses my forehead. "They’re doing one more test to check his brain wave activity, and then they are turning off his life support.” He exhales and brings me closer to him.

“You’re not going to stay with him?” I ask. He buries his face in the crook of my neck and shakes his head. In that moment I realize that I’m not the only one who needs to forgive Jerry. I’m not the only one who is holding on to so much anger and resentment. For years, Jerry used Ethan and his mother as punching bags. Ethan’s mother was in a mental facility because of all the abuse she received, and Ethan carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

I wrap my arms around him and whisper, “I think we both need to face our demons.”

“Okay.” He pulls away and looks deep into my eyes. His emerald irises regard me with hope. Hope of leaving all the bad behind us. It takes everything in me, but I nod.

Ethan shifts and places his muscular arm around my shoulder and brings me to his side. “I love you, Leslie.” He kisses the top of my head. “You have always made me strive to be a better person.”

Together we walk toward the front door of the rehab facility. Ethan never leaves my side as he leads me to the elevator, up to the third floor and down a long hallway. Jerry’s room is the second to last. My heart tightens as we approach.

A nurse walks out of the room as I’m gathering my courage to walk in. “Oh, Mr. Prescott. I thought you weren’t staying?” she asks Ethan.

“I’m not,” he answers.

The nurse glances over at me and then back at Ethan. She forces a kind smile on her face. “His tests came back the same. There is no sign of brain activity.” She pauses, waiting for any kind of emotion from Ethan, but he remains stoic. “I’ll notify Dr. Loch so we can proceed with your request.”

Ethan simply nods and looks down at me. “Ready?”

Inhaling, I swallow the golf ball sized knot in my throat and nod.

Goosebumps rise all over my body as I step inside the quaint, familiar room. The walls are a dull gray, and there is no sign of life. No flowers, no cards, nothing. Jerry’s motionless body lies in the hospital bed in the center on the room. Bile rises up my throat and I force it back down. Ethan and I stand at the foot of the bed looking down at his frail body. He doesn’t look like the same Jerry who used to terrify me as a kid, but I don’t let it fool me. I know the devil still lives deep inside his soul.

I glance over at Ethan. His fists are balled at his sides, and I know this is harder for him than it is for me. This is his father, the man who was supposed to love him unconditionally, but who never once showed him an ounce of affection.

I move from Ethan’s grip and rest both hands on the rail of the bed. Exhaling, I speak to the man lying there. “I will never forget what you did to me. I’ll never be the person I was destined to be because of you, but I learned that doesn’t define who I am. Eight years ago you took a piece of me that I’ll never get back, but you don’t scare me anymore. You broke my dreams, but you didn’t break me. I’m still here, standing, and moving on with my life, I’m surrounded by people who love me, while you lay here all alone. I refuse to let you hold any power over me anymore.” I exhale the breath I didn’t know was stuck in my chest and look over at Ethan. His nostrils are flaring and his breathing is erratic. “Ethan . . .”

Slowly, he shakes his head as he stares at his father. “You should have bled to death that day I hit you with that fucking crow bar,” he says through gritted teeth. “I hope you burn in hell. I hope you suffer for eternity. Mom never deserved what you did to her, and Charlie was an innocent child who needed a father.”

“Ethan!” I gasp, stunned by the hatred in his voice.

“Fuck him, Leslie,” he growls. “He deserves to die alone for all the shit he did to you, to me, my mom, and every other poor soul.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Rot in fucking hell, Jerry.” He turns on his heel and heads straight out the door.

Stunned by the hatred in his voice, I run after him. “Ethan, wait!” He is halfway down the hallway when I reach him. “Hey.” I grab his hand.

“Fuck.” I see the tears forming in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t. What that piece of shit did to me, to us . . .” His voices cracks and I lace my arms around his body.

“It’s okay.” I realize Ethan’s demons are much bigger than mine.

He coils his arms around my body and cries onto my shoulder. When his body begins to tremble, I can’t stop the tears that fall down my cheeks. Nurses, patients, and visitors pass us, but we remain in each other’s arms until he pulls away.

Gently, he kisses the tip of my nose. “I’m sorry. I thought I could move past everything, but when I saw him lying there all I could remember was his fists hitting my mother’s face, and him kicking me in the gut. I’m sorry, Leslie, but I can’t.”

With my heart breaking, I catch a tear with my finger. “I know.” I rise on my toes and kiss his lips. “You don’t have to, and I forgive you. I know that day in the garage you weren’t trying to hurt me, but protect me. The shelf falling was an unfortunate event.”

“Mr. Prescott.” A nurse approaches us. “We are ready to turn off the machines. Would you like to be there with him?” she says when Ethan I look over at her.

Ethan shakes his head. “No. He deserves to die alone.” The nurse nods and continues to walk down the hallway. “I need to get some air.”

“Want me to come?”

Ethan shakes his head and brushes my hair behind my ears. “I’m assuming you came here to see your father. Why don’t you go do that and we’ll meet up later?”

“Okay,” I say but I can’t ignore the pinch in my heart. I know he shouldn’t be alone now. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Sure thing,” he says and kisses my lips.

Ethan steps into the elevator, but instead of going to my father’s room, I stand in the hallway and wait for the nurses to exit Jerry’s room. I wait to make sure he is actually dead.

Twenty minutes pass before she walks out of the room and discards her gloves. Our eyes meet and she nods letting me know that the devil has finally returned home. A lone tear slips from my eye, and a wave of relief washes over me. I don’t know if it’s the knowledge that he is finally dead or the fact I have faced him, but I feel lighter.

Turning on my heel, I say good-bye to Jerry and go find my father.

* * *

My heart aches as I walk inside my father's room. It's not because I'm sad to see him; my pain is for Ethan. I want to shield him from his anger and his hatred and take his burden as my own. But in that moment I can't do anything but force a smile. My dad is sitting on his bed, his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose as he holds the paper.

“Looking good,” I joke, hoping my voice is masked with optimism. 

“Kiddo.” He puts the paper down.

Walking up to him, I sit on his bed and lean in for a hug. “I'm sorry I haven't been here, Dad,” I say as I bury my face in his chest. His familiar scent is gone. The scent of home has been replaced with the sterile scent of the hospital. 

“I figured it would be tough for you to come here given everything this place reminds you of.” He kisses the top of my head. “Your mom told me what you've done with the studio.” I pulled away and looked up at him. “I'm so proud of you, Leslie. You have become a beautiful and talented businesswoman.”

I smile widely at him. He has always known what to say to me to make me feel like I matter. “How are you feeling?” I grab his hand.

“Not one hundred percent, but I'm almost there.” He shifts on the hard mattress to make room for me to sit with him.

“That's good. I'm happy you're getting better.”

“The doctors think I'll be out of here soon, and I'll be able to finish the rest of my therapy at home.”

“I know Mom will be thrilled to wait on you hand and foot.” I lean my head on his shoulder.

My father clears his throat. "Your mom probably doesn't say this to you, she's stoic that way, but she's proud of you.” He looks over at me. “You saved us.”

I try to smile but tears betray me. “You saved me, Dad. I was drowning with no direction, and you helped me get out of here.” 

He pulls me closer. “You’re my little girl. I would do anything to keep you from suffering.” 

The room grows silent for a moment and I rest my head on my father’s shoulder.

“Ethan just pulled the plug on Jerry,” I mutter. “I was coming here to see you, and Ethan was walking out. He had to sign some documents letting them turn off the life-support."

"How's Ethan taking it?"

“Not so good,” I sigh. “I wanted to say a few things to Jerry before he died. I wanted to let go of all the anger I had inside. I told Ethan it would be good for us, and it was the only way we could move on from everything that happened.” I nervously brush my hair behind my ear. “So, I said my peace. I was willing to stand there and let go and move on. But when it was time for Ethan, he was so angry and hurt.”

My father wraps his arms around me. “That boy has been living with that man all his life. We all know what Jerry was capable of, but we never really experienced it. We stood on the sidelines watching, unable to do anything about it. Ethan lived it. I don't blame him.” 

My father's words resonate deep inside of me. He’s right. We were bystanders staring at a horrible car accident, unable to look away. Ethan was stuck in the wreck his entire life, and for the first time, he’s finally able to break free. 

* * *

I spent most of the afternoon with my father, catching him up on everything that had happened in my life. I explained how much I loved Chicago yet it had never really felt like home. I told him about my friends Harry, Emilia and Weston, and how much they had helped me grow over the past few years. Once we moved from the past, we discussed present time. I told him I was concerned about my mother's newfound addiction for sleeping pills, and he shared something I had never known. My mother turns to sleeping medication when she's depressed. It also happened when I broke my ankle and left for Los Angeles. He said she has a shrink who comes to the house once a week while I’m at the studio, and that doctor is the one who prescribes her the pills. I sigh, relieved to know it’s one less thing I need to worry about.

When I arrive home, I find my mother in better spirits. She’s still in bed, but there’s no fever and her cough has subsided. I whip up an early dinner, and we both eat in her bed as we watch the five o'clock news. I keep glancing at my phone waiting for Ethan to call, but the phone never rings. By nine o'clock, I’m crawling into bed with my phone next to me.

I won't let him push me away.

Finding the courage, I dial his number.

“Hello?” he answers on the third ring.

“Hey,” I say nervously. “I was waiting for you to call.” 

“Sorry, I just got held up with paperwork. How was the rest of your day with your dad?”

“It was fine. How are you? How's Charlie?” I don't know how to tiptoe around the subject.

Ethan sighs. “We're all okay. If anything, Charlie is relieved as much as I am.” 

“Do you want me to come over? We can rent a movie or just chill?” 

“No, it's okay. I'll be here for a while making funeral arrangements.” 

“I thought Jerry wasn't getting a funeral.”

He sighs again. “If it were up to me, I would dump his body in the desert. I would let his carnage be picked off by the crows. That's how I would want him to rest.” I swallow back unable to say anything. The image of crows picking off Jerry's dead skin enters my mind. “But Charlie wants a funeral. He insists we bury him, so that's why I'm doing this.”

Instantly, my heart melts. There isn’t anything in this world Ethan wouldn’t do for his brother. “I understand. Do you need me to help you with anything?”

“No, I'm okay. I have it figured out.”

“Okay, well I'm here if you need anything.” I can’t hide the disappointment in my voice.

“Thank you, Leslie.”

“I love you, Ethan.”

“I love you, too.”

The phone goes silent, slowly sliding for my ear and onto my lap. Ethan seems as fine as one going through what he is going through would be. He is handling it well but the tone of his voice tells me something else.

Putting my hand over my heart, I close my eyes and silently pray that no matter what lies ahead, we can make it in the end.