Wrapping my arms around my middle, I whisper, “I don’t understand.”

“My father was a drug addict and an alcoholic. Most of the time, he’d just get high or drunk and pass out, but there were times when he’d fly into a rage for whatever reason. One night, he spiraled, and by the time I woke up and realized what was going on, it was too late.” He looks across the room with his jaw tight.

“What happened?” The question is out before I can think better of asking—not only for his sake, but also to question if I really want to know the answer.

“He lost it. I’m not sure what set him off because I walked in when Mom was already bleeding on the kitchen floor. When he realized I was there, he turned on me. But I was thirteen, and I’d grown a lot that summer. And he was a mess from all the drugs and the drinking.” He sighs. “To this day, I don’t remember what happened. I’m not sure if I blacked out, or if it’s just something my mind blocked, but when I finally came to, he was on the floor next to Mom.”

My mouth fills with saliva, and I try to swallow the bile I feel crawling up the back of my throat, as the loop of what he just said plays over and over in my head.

When he realized I was there, he turned on me. But I was thirteen, and I’d grown a lot that summer. And he was a mess from all the drugs and the drinking. To this day, I don’t remember what happened. I’m not sure if I blacked out, or if it’s just something my mind blocked, but when I finally came to, he was on the floor next to Mom.

Unable to hold back the wave of nausea any longer, I cover my mouth as I jump up off the couch and run toward the bathroom in the hall. I can hear him right behind me as my knees crash to the tile floor, and hovering over the bowl, I lose what I was able to eat.

Still gagging, with my eyes squeezed tight, I register the light come on, the toilet flush, then hear the sink start up.

“Are you okay?” He places a cool, wet cloth on the back of my neck, and tears fill my eyes.

“Yeah,” I lie, taking the rag from my neck and using it to wipe my mouth as he squats down next to me.

“I shouldn’t have told you.” He touches my chin, and I turn to meet his gaze. “I’m so fucking sorry.”