Page 81 of I Blame the Alcohol

My father’s voice rings through immediately, making me physically wince against Cody’s pillows.

“I can’t. It goes against everything my father taught me.”

Cody watches me silently, his face pensive.

I try again, hoping for him to understand, “Mo and I were raised differently. We don’t go around showing our pain to the world, it’s a sign of weakness. I haven’t seen my brother cry since he turned twelve and my father sat him down and explained the expectations of what it means to be a man.” My throat tightens at the memory, the one and only time my mother and father ever fought in front of us.

“Just because he’s a boy doesn’t mean he can’t have feelings, Jonathan.” Mother stands with her hands on her hips, the angry swish of her dress matching the tension in the air.

Father shakes his head, “When I’m gone, Maurice is going to need to be the man of the house. He can’t do that if he breaks under the slightest pressure.”

Mother throws up her hands, “A man is allowed to break! Everyone breaks, it is only a matter of where and when. There is nothing shameful about a woman who cries, so why should it be shameful for a man to cry?”

Mo sniffs next to me, his tear-stained face puffy and red.

“Look at him! No one will ever take him seriously like that.” Father whirls around, the look in his eyes making it clear there will be no more arguing.

“Maurice, get yourself cleaned up. I don’t ever want to see your cheeks damp again, do you understand?”

Mo turns and scurries down the hall as mother shakes her head sadly, “Don’t raise our children how you were raised, Jonathan. Times are different, and now more than ever children need support not judgement from their parents.”

For a fleeting moment, father looks guilty, “I don’t know any different.” He sighs, running a hand down his tired face, “I’m trying my best here.”

Mother rushes over to him, “I know you are. But you can’t be so cold with the children. One day I might not be around, and it’s going to be up to you to give them the love and support they need in this world.”

I back away, turning to run after Mo as father pulls mother close.

“Don’t go and we won’t have that problem.”

Cody clears his throat, bringing me back to the present.

“Did you do physiotherapy after the accident?”

I frown, confused as to where this is going, “Of course.”

“So, when your body needs help recovering, you provide for it, but when it comes to your mind, you just ignore it?”

I open my mouth then close it. Because as much as I hate to admit it, Cody has a valid point.

“I’ve never thought about it like that.”

He gives me a crooked smile, “It’s just something to consider. Not that I don’t love our morning panic attacks together, but it would be nice to see you wake up rested for once.”

I laugh softly, “Pretty sure I owe you about a month’s worth of sleep at this point.”

Cody chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss against my forehead.

“I’ll send you an invoice by the end of the year.”

We crawl under the covers together, limbs tangling together in a warm cocoon I never want to leave. Just as Cody’s breathing grows deeper, I reach over and grab my phone, setting my usual alarm for the next morning. Hesitating, I open my reminders and set a new one to look for trauma therapists near Taber University.

Cody is right, I do need help. The fact I have yet to wake up to this alarm in over two years is reason enough to at least look into my options.

Chapter 25

Cody

I snatch the ball away from Hunter, pivot, and hurl it back across the gym.