Page 49 of Kings of Decay
"Hey, Willow," he said, throwing his work bag on the floor and walking to his room.
"You ok?" I flipped the kettle on. "Do you want coffee?"
"No," he called. "I can't stay." Dad came back out with a duffle bag.
Dad's face was pale, and he had bags under his eyes. His eyes were a bit red like he'd been crying.
"Dad," I said, momentarily forgetting how angry I was at him. "What happened."
"Amka," he said.
"You broke up with her?" My heart leaped up.
"No," he said pointedly. "It's her ex-husband." He took a deep breath. "They found him dead in Fairbanks."
"What?" I gasped. "Dead? What happened?"
My father's expression grew somber. "A heart attack, I think. The coroner is working on a cause of death."
"Oh, Dad. I'm so sorry." I stepped closer, feeling a wave of sympathy crash over me. As much as I hated his girlfriend, I didn't want people to die.
"Thank you, Willow," he said, gaze distant as memories filled his eyes. "I'll need to leave right away. I have to help Amka and..."
There was a pause as if Dad was struggling with what to say — as if he didn't want to explain the details. I could see the pain on his face.
Dad turned and looked at me, a determined expression on his face. "I'm leaving for Fairbanks tonight. I won't be back for a few days. Amka has people she can stay with there, and I'll stay with her."
"You're leaving tonight?" I asked, surprised. "It's almost Christmas, and there's so much snow. The roads are blocked."
"Rose is calling in a favor to get us a ride with the morning supply shipment helicopter," he explained as he filled his bag with clothes.
I watched him, frozen, as he moved around the tiny cabin. He opened the fridge, grabbed a sandwich, and started eating it as he walked back and forth, packing and re-packing his bag.
"Dad, you just got back from work," I protested. "And it's snowing outside. Are you sure this is a good idea? It's Amka's ex-husband. You didn't even know him."
He looked at me, and I could see the pain and sadness in his eyes. "I have to be there for her, Willow."
Fury ignited in my gut. "Be there for her? How about being here for me?" I screamed, throwing my hands down against the counter. "Mom just died, and all you care about is some woman you've only known for a few months!"
Dad flinched as if I had slapped him across the face. He stopped moving, the sandwich dropping out of his hands to land with a thud on the worn wooden floor.
"Willow," he said in a quiet, broken voice. "Sweetheart, that's not true."
"No?" I snarled. "Then why aren't you here for me? For us? I don't even know who you are anymore! You work all the time, and when you're not working, you're with her." I couldn't keep the tears from streaming down my cheeks. "You loved mom. I know you did. So why are you moving on so fast?"
Dad looked at me, his expression pained. He walked over to me, and I tensed as he pulled me into a tight hug.
"Oh, Willow," he murmured into my hair. "I love you, but Mom is gone. We need to keep moving… for her sake."
I didn't hug back. I just closed my eyes as tears rolled down my cheeks. It was agony.
"Why are you doing this, Dad?" I whispered, pulling away from his embrace. "Why are you leaving? I thought you wanted to be here for me."
Dad looked frustrated and helpless. "I am here for you, Willow, but I need to be with Amka right now. And I can't help it if I have feelings for her. And she needs me, too."
I pushed away from him, glaring. "Then, go. Leave me here." I hissed.
"Willow," Dad tried.
