Page 4 of Breakdown
“She is fine. I got her out in less than five minutes.”
“No, I mean this morning, Nik.”
“Sure. I just put her on the bus.”
“Fuck.” Peter was supposed to be helping Mia get ready for school in the morning to take some of the burden off Nik this week. Naturally, he’d dropped the ball on the most important day.
Nik never expected Peter to do any more parenting than he was comfortable with. Nik and Mia had developed an easy rhythm on their own and Peter was afforded the luxury of being able to step in only when he wanted to. Sometimes that meant it was hard to tell how far his responsibilities for Mia extended. He was flailing at best.
Nik’s brow creased with confusion. “What happened, Peter?”
God, Mia hadn’t even told him. Then again, he’d never worked up the courage to say anything when he was a child either, had he?
Sudden, white-hot fury blazed within him at Nik for not seeing what happened this morning and for not stopping it. Seconds later those emotions felt so fucking irrational and so hypocritical that there was nothing left to do but hate himself for feeling them. Jesus Christ, he was coming apart at the fucking seams.
The therapy didn’t seem to be doing him any good. In his recent sessions with Dr. Kavazanjian, Peter had been trying to conjure up some concrete image of his mother, coming up empty every time. No matter how hard Peter tried, he couldn’t seem to pin down the specifics of Cynthia Bauer. Over the years she’d become more of an idea to him, a symbol for how un-fucked-up his life could have been if only she’d been around.
But here—in this stupid bathroom, on the day Nik needed him to keep it together the most—a memory of her hit Peter like a punch to the gut, sudden and real and raw. His heart thumped wildly. He sucked air, his chest painfully constricted. He sobbed helplessly.
He’d never been able to tell her either.
Sitting across from her at that kitchen table the night before she lef—before dad killed her, he amended. She’d asked. Looked him right in the eye and asked, “Was there something else, sweet-pea?” If he’d told her, would she have left with him and Liv that night? Would she still be alive?
“Peter.” Nik ran his hand down the curve of Peter’s spine, startling him out of the memory. “Breathe.”
Peter did, more at the insistence of Nik’s calming strokes than his own volition. He pulled in a lungful of the humid air and exhaled it in short, trembling bursts.
“I need you to tell me what is wrong.”
One thing at a time. “I yelled at Mia,” Peter said, barely getting the words out.
Nik’s brows knit, his expression concerned but utterly baffled.
“No, Nik, I think I scared her,” Peter said, his voice cracking. He scared himself.
Nik’s shoulders relaxed, the crease in his forehead disappearing completely. “Alright. That is alright. I mean, it is not ideal but it is not the end of the world, yes? It happens. I have lost my temper before too.”
Peter lived with them and he couldn’t picture it. Fatherhood fit Nik like a well-tailored suit.
“Did you apologize to her?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, then.” Nik gave his knee a solid pat as though that settled it.
“No, you don’t understand, Nik. She surprised me and my first reaction was to yell at her and knock her hand away. I fucking swear I didn’t hurt her but...” He trailed off, staring at his traitorous hands. “Maybe... maybe I could. Maybe that’s in me somewhere.”
“Oh.” Comprehension flashed across Nik’s face, sudden and startled. “You would not hurt Mia.” Nik said it like an affirmation, but Peter wondered if his boyfriend was considering a question mark at the end of that sentence.
“I would never want to hurt her.” Peter hung his head. “What if I can’t control myself? I’ve been weak all my life, Nik.”
“Today, you did not hurt my daughter,” Nik repeated gently. He put his arm around Peter’s waist. “To tell you the truth, I do not think you ever will. I would not have you in my home if I thought there was any part of you capable of that. Life has given you a lot of chances to be a bad man, Peter, and yet here you are. I do not call that weak.”
“Sure, give me a medal. I’m a real fucking hero for not beating your daughter,” he choked out. It only made him feel worse that Nik was being so goddamn understanding. Peter tried to pull out of his embrace but Nik held him firmly in place, turning Peter’s chin with his other hand so they were face to face. Nik’s eyes were deep and trusting, and Peter’s insides writhed like snakes.
“You do not have to be so hard on yourself all of the time.”
Peter wanted that to be true. Wanted to be worthy of someone like Nik and not have to constantly be terrified of falling short of the mark. It felt lately that the universe was holding his sins against everyone but him. It fell to him to hold himself to account for that suffering.
