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It was for the seventh consecutive night that Leo found his son passed out on the couch upon arriving home.

He paused at the doorway, hovering silently. Exhaustion from the day’s work was eating up his insides, and his skin craved for a hot bath. But duty called him, and with a sigh he passed over to the couch, where Kit lay sprawled, legs tangled and hanging by the side. A book rested over his chest and a hand gripped it protectively – even in sleep he wouldn’t let any harm come to his precious books.

Hesitantly, Leo sat down by his son’s head. The carelessness with which he held himself – his blond hair untidy, mouth parted open, shirt half unbuttoned – all made him look younger than he was. Kit has always been smaller than his age, but when he slept, he looked like a baby.

A small sigh passed through his lips as Leo carefully extracted the book from Kit’s grasp. Seventh night in a row. Why didn’t the boy just sleep in his bedroom? Leo often worried about his son. He was careless indeed, but what bothered him more was his tendency to not look after himself. Leo was a very responsible person – how else would he have brought his company to such a reputable position? – but unfortunately his genes seemed to have skipped Kit.

As he reached over to brush Kit’s hair out of his forehead, he registered how badly he needed a haircut. Annoyance swept through him. How many more years would he need to remind Kit to cut his hair, to wash his clothes, to remove his clothes from the line? It seemed as though Kit would never grow up.

But Leo reminded himself that a bath awaited him, and it was this comforting thought that held him back from waking up his son and giving him a sharp scolding.

So instead he picked him up, bridal style, and took him to his bedroom. The surprising ease at which he was able to hold him up without giving himself a backache increased his worry tenfold. But he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind and laid him down on the bed, where Kit curled up into a ball. Covering him up securely with a blanket, like he used to do when Kit was a year or two old, he left the room and shut the door quietly behind him.

An hour later, freshened up considerably from the hot bath, Leo went to the kitchen. It was nearing midnight and he still hasn’t had his dinner. A feeling of guilt hit him – who was he to reprimand his son for being tardy when he himself couldn’t remember whether he had had lunch today? The incident has had a detrimental effect on both of them, and he wasn’t going to pretend to be okay when it took every ounce of his energy to drag himself to the next minute each day.

A surprise awaited him in the kitchen. Laid out neatly on the dining table was a plate of bacon, eggs and baked beans. For a moment, he thought that Kit had forgotten to eat his dinner but then remembered that he hated beans. The dinner was for him. Cooked by his son.

Had it been a few years ago, Leo would’ve been incredibly touched by the gesture. But it wasn’t a few years ago. It was now, the present – the seconds ticking by excruciatingly slowly to reach the unreachable future, a future that may perhaps never come. He was a changed man, someone who he himself sometimes did not recognise. Emotions such as love and affection seemed so alien to him now that he couldn’t remember what they felt like. The only thing he ever felt these days was irritation.

He finished his dinner quickly and went upstairs again. For a moment, he hesitated by Kit’s door. He didn’t want to hinder his sleep. Nevertheless, he was unable to resist a peek.

Kit was still curled up on the bed, but his blanket was swept aside. He seemed to be shivering – a cool breeze was blowing in through the open window. With a sigh, Leo went over and closed it. Through the windowpane, he saw the neighbourhood spread out before him – trees bending slightly by the wind, leaves shedding to prepare for the coming winter. A few pedestrians walked merrily by, unaware of the lifelessness and the despair that has taken over Gardengrove Place. Leo remembered he used to jog everyday at the break of dawn in those very streets. Zoé was his jogging partner. Now his old habits were gone, and so was she.

He heard Kit muttering something in his sleep. Silently, he enveloped his son securely in the blanket and left the room.

Another sleepless night awaited him.

Kit woke up just as Leo finished preparing breakfast. The former looked shaggy, as though he had walked through a storm. Leo found himself momentarily bewildered. He squinted at his son, trying to figure out whether he had grown an inch or two taller overnight, or it was merely his negligence that prevented him from noticing the changes he was going through. It was probably the latter.

“Good morning, Dad,” said Kit as he took the seat opposite him. He piled his plate with pancakes and added an excessive amount of syrup, like he always did.

“Good morning,” muttered Leo, still staring at him. “Thanks for the dinner last night.”

Kit shrugged.

Leo’s mind went back to the past. When there was still life in this house. When his favourite pastime was cooking with his son. Whenever they were both home, they would prepare their meals together, often leading to a filthy kitchen. Sometimes when Kit had trouble falling asleep, Leo read to him. Once a week, there would be a movie night, when the three of them would cuddle up on the couch and watch movies. Now the couch was only used by Kit to do his schoolwork.

Leo wondered why things have changed so much. Sure, Zoé’s death has affected them greatly. But there was a strong bond between him and his son which had broken after she passed away. Was Zoé the reason they had such a great relationship? Leo didn’t like the thought. He wanted to have a good relationship with his son even when Zoé wasn’t in the picture.

Kit was absentminded. He almost always was these days. Leo wanted to talk to him, ask him about his school, about his friends. Who was Kit’s closest friend? Try as he might he couldn’t remember. In his mind he began to arrange words to form coherent sentences, but before he could say anything, Kit finished his pancakes and left.

Leo sat there silently for several more minutes, maybe even an hour, his food untouched. Finally, having lost his appetite, he dumped his food into the bin before getting dressed. After carelessly brushing his hair, he left the house and drove to work.

His room was tidy – his walnut table neat with papers and folders stacked in orderly piles. The cleanliness gave him a headache, for he was used to being clumsy. The unorganised feature of his life somehow touched on his mind, kept it wandering, preventing him from thinking about things he didn’t want to think about. But once everything around him was organised, his mind could focus, and it focused only on one thing – his wife.

The door opened to reveal Omar, his best friend and business partner. He was clad in a powder blue suit and looked uncharacteristically happy today. Skipping over to his table, he sat down opposite him and grinned. “Guess who got a large order today?”

Their business was of sports attires – shoes, jerseys and other things. They had jointly created this business during college, and it had taken them years of hard work, depression, debts and fights to finally reach the stage they were in. The business was now running seventeen years and flourishing.

Leo squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head, feeling exceptionally tired all of a sudden. His mind went back to the days when he would be so ecstatic about the profits and achievements earned, but now he felt like he couldn’t care less.

“Why do you clean my room every morning?” he asked.

If Omar was hurt by his lack of enthusiasm, he didn’t show it. He leaned back on his revolving chair and began to circle. “Because if you die of caffeine poisoning in this very room, we won’t be able to find your corpse in the middle of all this mess.” He stopped circling around and fixed a stern glare on Leo. “Tell me, how much tea did you drink last night?”

“None,” Leo mumbled, knowing very well he wasn’t selling it.

He had taken up the habit of drowning himself in caffeine ever since he began to experience Zoé’s death again and again in nightmares. He was afraid of going to sleep, for every time he closed his eyes, he saw his wife’s body, bloody and mangled, lying next to a crumpled car that had run over her on that dreadful night three years ago. The driver of the car was drunk, and he had died seconds after Zoé as the vehicle promptly crashed into a wall.

“Do you even remember you have a son?” Omar asked. He sounded playful, but there was an undertone of reproach in his voice. “It’s bad enough that he lost his mother. Do you want him to become an orphan now?”

“I’m not going to die,” said Leo, although he wasn’t so sure himself.

“Having a dead father is better than having a dad who doesn’t even acknowledge your existence.”

Annoyance shot through him now. He straightened up and glared at Omar. “I didn’t come here to get a parenting lesson, Omar. Go back to work.”

But Omar didn’t move. “We have a meeting in ten minutes. Surely you remember that?”

Leo’s silence was answer enough. Omar sighed and rose to his feet. “I’ll give you half an hour to remember what the meeting is about and prepare for it. I’ll tell the others that you aren’t feeling well. Don’t be late.”

Despite the splitting headache, Leo found himself smiling. He was certain the company would be in good hands when he finally retires.

Proving his partner wrong, Leo arrived at the meeting five minutes before scheduled time, packed with all the information he needed. He was feeling slightly dizzy, perhaps due to all the caffeine he has consumed, but he felt confident enough. He had pushed Kit out of his mind and was ready to concentrate on his work.

Later, Leo couldn’t remember much of the meeting. He did remember a thunderous crash as he fell and knocked over a coffee table, and a clatter of china as his fourth teacup of the day broke into a hundred pieces.

“Hey, Dad.”

Kit’s voice was impassive, as though the sight of his father lying miserably on the hospital bed didn’t bother him. He remained seated on a chair, eating from a packet of chips.

Leo felt horrible. His employees counted on him to be a good boss, to run the company smoothly. And there he was – knocking himself out over a coffee table.

“I got chocolates for you,” Kit continued, as impassive as ever. “But the doctor said that you cannot eat outside food anymore. So I ate them myself.”

Leo grunted in annoyance and tried to sit up. Only then did he realise that his hand was injected with a cannula, through which a colourless liquid was dripping into his veins from a plastic bag. “What on earth is that?”

“Glucose,” Kit answered promptly. “You need energy.”

He rubbed his eyes with the ball of his thumb. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?”

He shrugged.

“Where’s Omar?”

“He will be here in an hour. He needs to fix things up at the office.”

Frustrated, he lay back again. He was in no mood to be in the hospital – didn’t Omar mention a large order placed? There was so much that needed to be done and there he was lying on the hospital bed.

“The doctor said you have to stay here for at least a week,” said Kit, as though he thought it would help. “But if you follow the routine and eat properly, they might release you early.”

Leo crumpled the bedsheet in his fist to release his exasperation. His son, who was seated beside him, seemed unbothered.

“How’s school?” he asked after a while, not really knowing what else to say. Kit, predictably, shrugged. He let a slow sigh leave his mouth.

“I suppose I’m not allowed to eat those chips?”

For the first time, Kit let some emotion show on his face – he beamed. “Nope.”

Exactly an hour later, Omar arrived. Leo had been preparing himself to blow up on him, but his friend knew him too well. He held up his hands in a surrender and spoke. “Before you yell, I had nothing to do with this. The doctor said you were malnourished and forced me to admit you here. Don’t worry about work, everything is fine.” He paused. “Where’s Kit?”

“He went outside to look around. He should be back by now.”

Omar sat down at the end of the bed. He looked like he wanted to say something, something funny possibly, for he was suppressing a smile. Leo looked at him suspiciously before snapping. “Just say it.”

“I don’t mean to be insensitive,” said Omar before he actually started laughing, “but it was hilarious when you passed out.”

He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Me nearly splitting my head open is hilarious?”

“Don’t get me wrong. It’s just, the way the people reacted,” he ventured to explain. “You can get to know a lot about a person by how they react in situations of crisis, you know? Eve and I were the only people in the room who actually came forward to help you. Zachariah was frozen in place and he only came to when someone slapped him on the head. Irene was worrying about the coffee table and your broken teacup. Edmund went into panic mode – he started shrieking like the horror movie victims. I’m surprised I was able to carry you out without falling into hysterics.”

He fell into hysterics now though, gripping the edge of the bed between his fingers. His laughter carried through the air and Leo had the feeling that at any moment people would come into the room and tell him to shut his mouth.

“Well I’m glad to see that my near death experience makes you laugh,” said Leo with a shrug, although he was smiling. “There he is.”

For just then, Kit had entered the cabin, brushing his hands against each other. A smile broke into his face when he saw Omar and he came over to hug him tightly.

Leo couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled like that, nor could he remember when they had last hugged each other. An inexplicable sensation rose inside him, and he was so preoccupied with thinking about his son that he didn’t hear what they were talking about. They laughed at some joke they had just shared and Leo felt like he was intruding upon a father–son moment.

“Kit, from now on, you have to be your father’s dad,” Omar spoke merrily with him. “Make sure he follows his eating schedule, don’t let him drink too much tea, or anything unhealthy. We need him back at the company and its up to you to bring him back. You think you can do that?”

“Sure,” he grinned in reply.

“I know you can. You’re a grown up now, aren’t you?”

They high fived each other while Leo groaned internally and closed his eyes. He had never wanted to punch his best friend more.