Chapter 173 - Adults Don't Cry

John.

"He had a manic episode,'' his doctor tells me.

I had him transferred back to his hospital. Dr Mathew has been the one following him through his breakdowns. He is the only one that really knows how to handle him. I should be furious that they made it so easy for him to leave the hospital but I know it is all Lance's doing. I know how determined the kid is now.

The things he is capable of.

I made a mistake of not showing him the video. I thought I could get him to trust my words. I kept telling everyone that I am not the monster they think I am but if my own son thinks I am one. There are no convincing strangers.

"Can I see him?'' I know it is a far chance that they will let me see him. They had to sedate him to get him to quiet down.

I have never seen him this bad. In all the breakdowns he has had. This is the worst out of them all. "He is not really there yet. We need him to be sedated for a couple of hours,'' he informs me.

The mental exhaustion kicks in. I thought I could handle Brad. The day I found out that he was sick. I had the same reaction I did with his mother. I also thought I could protect her. I thought I was enough to keep her alive.

I was wrong.

Now I feel like I am wrong about this too. I don't know if I am strong enough to protect him from himself.

"He kept saying it was his fault. That everything is his fault. He used to say it was my fault. Something changed while he was away."

I sigh because I have no clue. I don't know what goes through his head. I don't know what he thinks, how he feels. Everything is a blur to me.

"He looked so out of it. I don't think he has been taking his medications,'' he informs me. I know that he hasn't been consistent with his meds. Just like his mother. The difficulty that comes with getting him to take his meds is the same thing I had to go through seven years ago.

"He will be fine Mr Hilly,'' he tries to give me some assurance but it doesn't work. This is not the first time that he is saying this. In fact, two weeks ago, when he has his last breakdown, he said the same thing to me.

He will be fine.

For how long do I have to keep hearing that? "You should go home. Get some rest, I will notify you the moment he is ready for visitors. "

I know how these things go. They are going to keep him under until tomorrow. He almost killed himself. I know what that means. His birthday is in two days. I know he was waiting until he is eighteen. To have his freedom away from my supposed control.

"Okay.'' I accept defeatedly.

There is nothing else I can do. I just have to wait until he wakes up. I want to talk to him. Tell him that I am on his side. Like I have been doing all this while. I pray for the day he will finally believe me. The day he will finally trust me.

I leave the hospital and enter my car. George looks at me from the rearview mirror "Where to sir,'' he asks.

I take a deep breath because I know I can't go home right now. I need to talk to Lance. Figure out what happened and why this happened.

Lance.

We stare at each other in this awkward silence.

I don't know why he is here but I am very sure that he will let me know when he is ready. I see a pain in his eyes that I have never noticed before. I hate that I judged him for so long. I could have handled things differently.

At the end of it all, I knew he wasn't a monster—or at least a part of me saw things that I didn't know in the beginning. I thought I was doing the right thing by getting him out of the hospital but my plan was half-assed and that messed everything up.

This is all my fault, but looking at the man in front of me, I think he blames himself for all this. We are two people that are beating ourselves up for the same things.

"I am sorry,'' I manage because an apology is all I can do.

He might blame himself for this but I know that it is my fault. He furrows his brows in confusion "You didn't do anything, Lance.''

"I caused all this. I should have listened to you. I shouldn't have taken him out of the hospital, if things went differently, I would never forgive myself,'' I cry. This is the first time I am talking about this. I need him to know that I regret all my actions. I need him to believe me.

"This is not your fault. You are the kid, I am the adult. I didn't deal with this the right way,'' he interjects.

Adults always feel like they have to carry all the weight of the world on their shoulders but there was nothing else he could have done. He did his best. He tried to talk to me. I didn't want to believe him.

He reaches for me and I don't push him off. This man is the one my mother chose. I hated their union—mostly because I loved his son. I thought it would affect our relationship, so I closed him off completely. I wanted him to be a monster. If he was the bad guy that Ford claimed he was, then I could hate him and as long as I hated him, I wouldn't care about his opinion.

Now I see that.

I hate that I didn't give him a chance.

"How is he?'' I manage even though that question looks like an added hurt to him. I see the pain just from asking him about his son.

There is love inside John.

Love that Ford doesn't even know exists.

"I haven't been able to see him. I wouldn't get a chance until tomorrow,'' he tells me.

My heart breaks irrevocably. I will never forget that pain that comes with the memory of seeing him on the edge of the roof, ready to die. It is engraved in my mind for the rest of my life.

"Can I come with you tomorrow?'' I ask him desperately.

He looks at me hesitantly.

I am the ticking bomb in Ford's life. I see it on his face. I wouldn't want me around him after what happened.

"Okay, I will see if it is possible." he finalizes, warming my heart in the process. I didn't think I would get the chance to see him so soon. I can hold on to the hopes that I would. After a long pause, he adds a question "He kept saying it was his fault. I want to know what happened to him while you guys were together.''

I know why he is blaming himself but I don't know if he wants his father to know. Maybe this is something that will cancel all the hatred between them. If he knows that he is not to blame, then maybe everything will be resolved.

I don't know anymore. I don't know right from wrong but I want to believe that there is a right in all of this.

I want to believe that this is it.

I tell him everything and he listens to me. I watch his expression change from shocked to bewildered and then back to sad again. There is no anger in his expression as I tell him that his son messed up with his wife's meds. I know now that my assumption was spot on. I just don't know if he actually figured it out. If he finds out that his mother was sick. Then that would explain his episode.

I think back to all the times that he has called his father a murderer.

He hates the man because he thinks that he killed his mother.

The problem lies between the two of them. Maybe if they talk about it, they can get closure. They might be the only ones that can make things better.

"He might be beating himself up because of that,'' I add.

He runs his hands through his hair and I watch him as tears fall to his face. I don't see adults as vulnerable people. to me, I don't imagine them in tears. They seem like robots to me but in this moment, I see a side of him that I didn't think existed.

I see a pained father.

Sad and in pain.

For his son.