I Love You

“I know I never said it enough growing up… And I’m sorry I’ll never be able to say it again…”

"I love you.”

That’s the last thing I told my wife before leaving the house that cold September morning.

Holding me a little tighter than normal, she kissed me on the cheek before returning the sentiment.

“I love you more.”

Normally, I probably would have argued with her, but given the circumstances, I decided it was better to just let her win. After all, she deserved it after putting up with me for the last three days.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” she asked with a reassuring smile.

“No,” I groaned back. “It’ll be easier if I go alone. I already feel bad enough as it is. The last thing I want is for one of them to try and drag you into the middle of it.”

“It’s alright, love. I knew what I was getting into when I married you.”

“I know, but still. I haven’t talked to any of them in almost seven years. There’s no telling what’ll happen.”

“Well, just remember that I’ll be here for you if you need me. And I don’t mind bailing you out of jail if I need to.”

She was trying to be funny, and to her credit, it did make me feel a little better, but not even her off-kilter humor was enough to calm my shaking nerves. Giving her one last kiss good-bye, I hopped into the car and took off down the road. Next thing I knew, I was sitting all alone in a mostly empty parking lot, waiting for the attorney’s office to open. Fumbling around in my car trying to pass   the time, it wasn’t long before I found myself swimming through a sea of discombobulated thoughts. Fear, excitement, anger. For reasons I couldn’t quite explain, it felt like I was struggling against a tidal wave of emotions, and try as I might, I was barely able to keep my head above water.

Before too long, a car pulled up. Then another. Then a couple more.

As the people inside started getting out, I began to wonder if maybe coming alone wasn’t the best idea after all. If something did happen, it was going to be their word against mine, and there were a lot more of them than me.

“Well, here goes nothing,” I murmured under my breath.

Walking across that parking lot was like walking through no-man’s-land. Each step felt more forced than the last, while the eyes of familiar faces hung on me like machine guns waiting to mow me down. It was the first time I’d seen most of those people in almost a decade, and as long as a fight didn’t break out, it would hopefully be the last.

Finally making it inside the attorney’s office, the receptionist greeted me with a warm, well-rehearsed smile.

“Hello there. May I help you, sir?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m here to settle the affairs of Kenneth Johnson.”

“And your name, sir?”

“Daniel Johnson.”

“Oh, yes sir! Okay, just have a seat over there and I’ll let them know you’re here.”

Glancing around the lounge, there were a few open seats, though none of which I was willing to sit in.

“Actually, I think I’ll just stand,” I said before slinking away into the corner of the room.

“Alright. Just give us a few minutes and we’ll call you back.”

As she disappeared down the hallway, I finally took the time to look around and see who all was there. Some of the faces I recognized. Some I didn’t. Of course, there were a few people I expected to see there, but much to my surprise, there were also a handful of people I never expected to see at all. Either way, regardless of who they were and how they were all related, each of them, young or old, man or woman, had one particular thing in common with each other; they were all staring at me like they wanted me dead.

Well, everyone except for one person, that is.

My sister.

Truth be told, she looked like she was on the verge of tears from the moment I walked through the door. Like she wanted to say something but even she was too afraid of what everyone else might think. In a way, I couldn’t help but feel bad for her. But then again, she probably felt worse for me.

Leaning against the far wall, I tucked my head into my chest and stared down at the floor. Occasionally, I could hear a few of them whisper something back and forth to each other, though I tried my best to tune it all out. I didn’t come there to bicker with them or get sucked back into their drama. I went there because I had to, and even then, I wasn’t all too happy about having to do that.

Feeling all alone in a crowded room, moments passed like hours – minutes like miniature eternities. The whole time, not a single one of them dared speak a word to me, and I didn’t dare speak a word to them.

“Alright, everyone! The attorney’s ready!” the receptionist said with a forced smile. “Right this way.”

Silently, we all flocked down the hallway and into an awkwardly small conference room. Taking a seat in the far corner, I watched as each of them scurried here and there, trying their best to avoid being the one stuck sitting next to me. Looking back at it, the whole thing was actually rather comical. The way they shuffled around each other and grumbled under their breath. You’d have thought I had the plague, and truth be told, if it weren’t for how cramped the room got, I wouldn’t have been surprised if they refused to sit next to me altogether. In the end though, somebody had to be the one to bite the bullet, and in a stroke of complete irony, that lucky person wound up being none other than my very own father.

Resting his elbows against the table, he turned and looked over at me with a half-hearted smile.

“Daniel,” he nodded.

“Mike,” I nodded back.

“You been alright, son?”

“I’m fine, but I’m not your son anymore.”

The silence that followed was about as uncomfortable as anyone might expect. As the rest of my family glared at me from across the table, I began to wonder if maybe I was going to have to take my wife up on her promise. Luckily for me, the attorney walked in before anyone had the chance to blow their tops.

“Well, good morning!” he cheerfully announced, doing his best to cut through the obvious tension. “Sorry for the wait. Had a client call me first thing this morning about wanting to buy another house. I told him he was a brave soul for doing that in this market, but he swore up and down it was a good deal.”

An overly jolly looking old man, he continued rambling on about this and that while his legal aid was busy handing out stacks of papers to everyone sitting at the table. Once she was done, he quickly scanned the room one last time to gauge the temperature before finally leaning forward in his chair and clearing his throat.

“Alright, now, uh… Which one of you is Daniel?”

“Here, sir,” I replied with a quick wave.

“Ahh! Good. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I think I remember someone telling me that you just got back home from overseas again. Is that right?”

“Yes, sir. Got back about two months ago.”

“Okay, okay. You’re in the Guard now, aren’t you? Or are you still in the Marines?”

“I’m in the Guard now, sir.”

“Alright. Okay, okay. Well, at least you made it back in time for the funeral.”

Never one to miss a chance at taking a low blow, my stepmother quickly chimed in.

“He didn’t go!” she haughtily proclaimed.

Realizing he’d just stumbled across a landmine, the poor attorney quickly tried to backpedal, but by that point it didn’t really matter. He knew good and well what he was getting into, and I knew good and well there was plenty more where that came from.

“Well… Uhh…  I’m sorry you weren’t able to go,” he hurriedly lamented before segueing into another topic. “Right. Well, as you all know, prior to his death, Mr. Kenneth named Daniel as the primary executor over his will. However, since Mr. Daniel has declined this responsibility, it now falls on our office to ensure everything gets settled exactly how Mr. Kenneth wished. Now, Mr. Daniel, I just want to make sure that you are in fact willing to forgo all responsibilities for this. Am I correct?”

“Yes, sir,” I agreed. “That’s correct.”

“And you understand that by forfeiting those rights, our office will have final say over all settlement disputes. Are you aware of that?”

“Yes, sir. I’m aware.”

“Alright. Okay, okay. Well, in that case, I just need your John Hancock right here, please.”

Sliding me a piece of paper, he quickly pointed to the lines he needed me to sign. A few strokes of the pen later and it wasn’t my problem anymore.

Looking back now, it’s kind of crazy when you think about it. It took almost thirty years for someone to believe I was responsible enough to entrust me with everything they’ve ever owned. Meanwhile, it took me all of about five seconds to sign everything away to someone I’d just met.

I guess in a way, Grandaddy was wrong about me. Then again, what else did he really expect?

Scanning over the form, the attorney’s head began to bobble back and forth like an old Weeble-Wobble.

“Alrighty, then. Now that that’s all done, let’s get down to brass tax, shall we?”

Flipping through another stack of papers, he began calling out names one by one, guiding people to the pages that pertained to them and explaining what they did or didn’t get. Of course, almost everything went to my father and stepmother. A few guns and some oddball pieces of furniture to my brother; most the jewelry to my little sister. Other than that, everything else was just divvied out here and there; little knick-knacks and mementos that had been set aside for years, while whatever money was left over got split into college funds for the grandkids.

In the end, everyone got a little something from Grandaddy. Everyone except for me that is. And it’s not that I didn’t get anything, it’s just that what was left to me wasn’t exactly little.

After calling on everyone else, the attorney finally turned and locked eyes with me. I could tell by the look on his face that he was quietly bracing for the fallout we were all about to endure.

“Mr. Daniel,” he said with a forced smile.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sure you already know this, son, but uhh… Well, Mr. Kenneth left you quite a bit.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what all did he get?” my stepmother chimed in again, trying her best to rub a little more salt in the wound.

“It’s on page nineteen, ma’am,” the old man replied, hoping to avoid answering her directly.

Almost on cue, everyone in the room flipped to page nineteen as fast as their fingers could move. For about five seconds, you could have heard a pin fall. Then, about five seconds later, all hell broke loose.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” my brother shouted. “He gets the God damn house! No… Wait! All three houses! What the fuck!? I didn’t even know Grandaddy still owned the house in Collierville!”

“Oh! And he gets the property out by the lake too!” my stepmother added – the shrewd bitch.

“Alright! Alright!” the attorney hollered, trying to reign everyone in. “I understand that this news might upset some of you. But I think we need to remember that these were Mr. Kenneth’s last wishes, and as such–”

“I don’t want it,” I interrupted.

“Ahh… Wait…What?”

“I said, I don’t want it.”

Just as quickly as the room erupted into chaos, everything went dead silent. Clearing his throat, the attorney craned his neck and loosened his tie.

“Mr. Daniel. I understand that this whole thing has to be a bit stressful for you, but I don’t think you realize the full implications of what you’re forfeiting.”

“I know what I’m giving up.”

“Mr. Daniel… sir… We’re talking about nearly three million dollars’ worth of real estate. Not to mention the revenue made off the farmland every year.”

“I said, I know what I’m giving up. Now please, just give me whatever piece of paper it is that I need to sign, so I can get the hell out of here.”

“Mr. Daniel–”

“I said give me the fucking paper!”

I swear, I never meant to be an asshole to that jolly, old man. Afterall, he was only doing his job, and I appreciate him for that. But by that point, I was just ready to leave, and that piece of paper was my way out. Inheritance or not, I didn’t care about what I had to gain. I didn’t care about what I had to lose. All I ever cared about, was getting as far away from them as humanly possible.

After another minute or two of awkward silence, the legal aid stepped back into the room with a stack of freshly printed papers. Glancing through them, her boss took a deep breath before looking me square in the eyes.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Mr. Daniel?”

“I’m sure,” I replied, taking the papers and lining them up on the table.

“Okay. Well then, if you would, please sign here. And here… And right here. And initial there. And one more time here.”

Again, it took nearly thirty years to build up enough trust to acquire another man’s fortune, and when it was all said and done, it took me about five whole minutes to throw it all away.

Flipping to the last page, the attorney hesitated.

“Alright, Mr. Daniel… The only thing left is for you to write down who you’re giving it all to.”

Oh, the irony.

Glancing around the table, everyone was looking at me with yearning eyes; their hate-filled expressions softening in a way that still makes me sick to my stomach. These people. These so-called family members who wouldn’t piss on me to put out a fire; they were all looking at me like they wanted to make amends. Like they wanted to bury the hatchet. Like I wasn’t the prodigal son they’d made me out to be.

They all looked at me like I was their savior.

Well, all but one of them, that is.

Sitting across the table with her hands in her lap, my sister seemed just as distraught as the moment I walked into that office. The look on her face said she was beyond confused; beyond sad. She looked hurt, and deep down I knew I was the one responsible for that.

You see, when I turned my back on my family seven years ago, I didn’t just lock out my parents. I locked out everyone – even the ones who adored me. I didn’t want to, of course, but the way things were going, I didn’t have any other option. I knew that if I wanted to save myself from becoming everything I ever hated, then I was going to have to give up everything I ever knew; everything I loved. Even my sister. And as I sat there in the silence of it all, surrounded by a palpable chaos of my own making, I was finally forced to witness just how much my decision to leave truly devastated those caught in the wake.

“Taylor,” I murmured. “I give it all to Taylor.”

All at once, a low gasp filled the room as I quickly scribbled down her name.

“Bubba…” she whimpered.

I didn’t say anything back. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I knew I’d break down crying if I did, and right now wasn’t the time for tears.

“Here,” I groaned, sliding the papers back over to the attorney.

Flipping through them one last time, he took a deep breath and nodded his head.

“Do you need anything else from me?” I asked, rising from my chair.

“Ahh… No, Mr. Daniel. I think that’s everything.”

“Good. Have a nice day.”

“Uhm, you too,” he replied. Standing, he reached over to shake my hand, but by that point, I was already halfway down the hall.

Making a beeline out the door, I hadn’t even made it across the parking lot when I heard someone yelling my name.

“BUBBA! WAIT!”

Turning around, I saw Taylor burst out of the office with tears streaming down her face. For a split second, we just stared at each other; her clinching a set of papers that changed her life forever, while I clung to a set of keys for a car I could barely afford.

“I–I don’t understand,” she gasped. “Why me?”

“Does it matter?” I coldly replied.

“It does to me.”

“Then I don’t know what to tell you. Give it to someone else if you want.”

Turning back around, I hadn’t made it more than a few steps when she hollered something that made me want to die right then and there.

“I LOVE YOU! I know you might not believe me, but I really do! And I know everyone else is mad at you for how you left, but I don’t blame you. Even if you hate us for everything that happened, I want you to know that I still love you! I’ve always loved you!”

“Taylor… Stop.”

“Do you–do you remember when we were kids? How I used to come sleep in bed with you because I was afraid of the dark?”

“Taylor!”

“You always told me you’d be there for me… That you’d never leave me… Do you remember that?”

“Please! Stop!”

“Do you remember?!”

“YES, I REMEMBER! NOW PLEASE, LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Staggering backwards, she turned loose of the papers, letting them scatter in the breeze.

“Do you…Do you really not love me anymore?”

I didn’t answer.

“Bubba… Do you love me or not?”

Shaking my head, I fumbled to get the car door open.

“ARE YOU GOING TO SAY IT BACK OR NOT?!”

“No, Taylor! No, I’m not!”

“AND WHY THE FUCK NOT?!” she shrieked, “Why won’t you just say it back?! I just want to know if you fucking love me!”

Finally getting my door open, I felt my entire soul shudder as I locked eyes with her for the last time.

“I do love you, Taylor… I really do. But just because you love something doesn’t always mean you get to have it.”

And without another word, I got into my car and drove away.

Pulling out of that parking lot, I could see her face in my rear-view mirror; her eyes filled with anguish as she watched me drive out of her life forever.

‘I love you.’

That’s the one thing she wanted from me. The one thing she needed from her big brother. And no matter how much it hurt, it’s the one thing I couldn’t give her.

I’m sorry…