Page 98 of The Widower
We’d gotten closer because of the rides to and from his school, and little by little, he started opening up to me. I didn’t know what he was like before, but he seemed shy—slow to trust people. I couldn’t blame him. That kind of thing might’ve been shaped by the tragedy his family went through some time ago.
“Joshua… what are you most afraid of?”I asked as we arrived back at the mansion.
“I don’t know. I guess… dying.”
I tilted my head slightly and gave him a gentle smile.
“Anything else?”
“Cars.”
That was it. I wasn’t sure why, but an idea came to me—a way to maybe help him face that fear.
“Why not try to fight it? If you want, I can help you face it.”
He looked at me with suspicion, clearly not thrilled by the suggestion. I decided to test the waters.
“How?”
“What if we go sit in one of the cars?”
Joshua’s eyes widened, and I could tell right away he didn’t like the idea. I took his small hand gently in mine and said, “We’re not going to drive anywhere, don’t worry. Just sit inside.”
“Promise?”
“Yes. I promise.”
A little hesitant, he followed me to the car Tito usually used. It was like Joshua was stepping inside a car for the firsttime—his eyes moved around, observing every detail. I knew I might be pushing him too far, but my gut told me this was the right thing to do. And I’ve learned to trust my instincts.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.” He was trembling a little, so I reached for his hand again.
“Let’s just forget we’re in a car and talk about something. Anything.”
“Okay.”
“I want to tell you a secret. It’s not something I share with people, but I trust you… and I want you to trust me too.”
“What is it?”
“I lost my dad when I was really young,” I said softly. “I don’t remember much about him, but I know he made my mom very happy. He died of cancer, and it sent her into depression for years. I didn’t understand back then—I was just a kid. As I got older, I promised myself I’d try to fill the empty space in her heart, even though I knew that when people die, they never really leave us—they stay in our minds and hearts. Then I had Hanna, started a family… and her father abandoned us. That’s when I learned what true sadness really feels like.”
Joshua listened carefully to every word. It was hard for me to revisit certain memories, but sometimes it was necessary.And if it could help him, I was willing to do it.
“He never came back?” he asked.
“No. But I have a family with me now. My mom and Hanna are my world, and I thank God every day for them. What I’m trying to say is that even though your dad might seem distant right now, he’s still your dad. He loves you. But sometimes… he just doesn’t know how to show it. Try to understand him. Maybe he blames himself for what happened to your mom and sister.”
Joshua lowered his head for a few seconds, then said something that truly surprised me.
“It’s not his fault. I know that.”
That was such a mature thing for him to say. I pulled him into a long hug. Deep down, Joshua understood what had happened—but for us humans, it’s always easier to blame someone than to admit we’re hurting.
We stayed in the car for another ten minutes, just talking. He didn’t tremble once, and I could tell he’d forgotten where we were.
When we got out, he looked back at the car, studying it for a few seconds.
