Always With You
“I told you I’d always be with you.”
Lloyd entered the TV room as were it any other day, sitting in his chair. The pictures in frames were still on the mantle, curiosities still in their places on the shelves.
“But you lied, dad,” I said, sitting on the couch opposite his favorite chair. We never sat in their chairs when we came to visit. “You left. You didn’t even put up a fight.”
Lloyd looked over at me through his large-framed glasses. “I’m right here, aren’t I?”
I shook my head before I leaned over, cradling my face in my hands. “It’s not the same.”
Lloyd sighed, stood up and walked over to sit on the couch next to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I must’ve been shutting out the sensation of touch, because I felt nothing.
“I did the best I could, son. But there comes a time when we can’t resist anymore. There are some things outside our control.”
All of a sudden I heard a voice from the doorway. It was my wife.
“Who are you talking to?”
I sat up, inhaling sharply through my nose. I was alone.