“Really?” I say. “I should have reminded you about that when Dylan was six months old and you fucked the sorority girls, or when he was two and your girlfriend showed up in the middle of the night.” I put up my hand. “No, it was when I walked in on you fucking our landlady when Dylan was three.”

“That was a mistake!” he shouts, and I just shake my head.

“I don’t even care,” I say. “What are you doing here?”

“I need a place to crash until tomorrow,” he says. He walks to the fridge, and I see his hands shake just a touch.

“No freaking way are you going to stay here while you’re high,” I say, shaking my head. “Not a chance in hell.”

“I’m not high,” he says. Grabbing the chocolate milk that I splurged on for Dylan, he opens the top and drinks straight out of the container. “I’m just a little shaky. I think I’m coming down with something.”

“Yeah,” I say, shaking my head. “I bet.” I might have been in the dark at the beginning, but after all this time, I know the signs. He’s coming down from his high, and if he doesn’t get it soon, he’s going to get all grumpy and then twitchy.

“Look, I just need a shower and a place to crash, and then I’ll be gone,” he says, and I keep telling myself it’s the last time. I can’t do this anymore, that next time it’s going to be a no and get out. “You just have to tell your boyfriend to come back tomorrow,” he says with a sneer before he walks into the bathroom and closes the door.

“Give me strength,” I say under my breath, and the bedroom door opens and out comes Dylan.

“Where is Dad?” he asks, looking around, and then he hears the shower turn on. “Is Justin your boyfriend?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head, “he’s not.” I ignore the way my chest feels. “What do you want to eat for dinner?” I ask, ignoring the singing from the shower.

“Do we have fish sticks?” he asks, hopeful that I picked up his favorite ones, and I just smile and nod my head. “Yes,” he says, closing his fist and cocking it back.

I make dinner for the three of us, and Dylan tells him all about the hockey camp and all about his new skates. Then they sit down and watch hockey videos, or actually Dylan watches the videos while Andrew sleeps. I want to kick him to tell him to get the fuck up and get the fuck out. I look at the man I once loved, or at the very least liked a lot, and I decide this is the last time I let him come into my home. This is the last time I help him.