It started small.

The weekdays came, and Geno had to start his mornings early. He never counted taking his son to school as the start of his day—it began when he returned, slept, and woke around the afternoon when Mikeal called him with a reminder to eat. And now, Mikeal ensured Geno ate breakfast before dropping him (Mikeal) off at school. And then, with every free time, he would text Geno, ensuring he didn't spend his time sleeping.

All Geno wanted to do was sleep. If only he could go back in time and tell his sick self to deal with his sickness and not go to the doctor. He felt the doctor ruined his life—he could no longer do anything like sleep his day away.

Besides eating, Mikeal expected Geno to find a way to exercise at home since they could only go on walks during the weekends. Geno scoffed at exercising; the word gave him goosebumps.

And that is where everything started.

For two days, his son has been trying to get him to exercise, and Geno has been fighting it. They were at an impasse and having a silent argument. However, they would never admit to an argument because it stayed muted—it was more of them being silently petty.

Geno admits that he is tired of silent fighting, but he can't get himself to exercise. So, he finally pulled out his phone and decided to talk about it.

Geno: Why is exercising so hard?

After sending the text, he knew the person on the other side was busy and would text back later. So, he sat on the couch, found a random show, and sat there. After an hour into the show, his phone vibrated. He unlocked it and saw a message from his son instead.

Mikeal: Remember to eat lunch, Dad. I already have a meal in the fridge for you.

Geno sighed, standing up to make the food his son left him. Although he did not want to eat, he forced himself onto a meal schedule because he did not want to see the disappointment in his son's face. He disappointed him enough.

But I still do not want to exercise. Geno thought.

Once he got the food and microwaved it, he returned to the living room and took a picture of the food. He sent the photo to his son, proving that he was eating. When he finished, he started eating slowly, which helped him keep eating until he emptied the plate.

As he slowly ate, his phone vibrated again, causing Geno to pause. He unlocked his phone, thinking it was his son when he saw it was a reply to the text he sent out an hour before.

Nicholas: Are you trying something hard first? That could be the reason you find it difficult. Maybe start with something small—how long has it been since you've done house chores?

Geno thought back to when he last cleaned the house. For the past three years, Mikeal has kept up with the house chores while Geno wasted away on his bed or couch. Before then, his wife used to have a chore list set up with their names on it as they were assigned something new each week. His wife would say that keeping the house clean was a family team.

Geno: Would I sound like a terrible father if I said, for three years, my son handled all the chores without help?

Nicholas: I could answer honestly, but instead, I will say, surprise your son. Since he is vastly in the kitchen, try cleaning the kitchen and maybe the living room, too, since it is a spot where both of you hang.

Geno thought about a broad smile appearing on his son's face if he cleaned the kitchen. He knew it would be a welcomed surprise to him. And Geno would love to see that—he missed Mikeal's silly smiles and happy laughter. It was his fault for sapping away his son's happiness, so he should fix it, right?  

Geno: Okay, I will try. But does this really count as exercise?

Nicholas: Good, and yes, because you are moving your body.

Geno: Well, here goes nothing.

Geno finished eating before he stood and walked to the kitchen. He looked around, seeing that there wasn't much to clean since his son would clean the kitchen almost daily. There were still a few things that needed to be straightened and a few dishes that had to be washed.

He started his task, already wanting to stop. Geno couldn't understand his mind. There was not much to clean, and the task wasn't terrible, but he already felt weighed down. His hands moved, but his mind protested. He couldn't help but wonder if what he felt was mental.

Geno used to clean with his wife and son all the time. They would clean every weekend, making it a family thing. He could remember the laughter, their silly arguments on how good they cleaned, and their mindless competitiveness. Everything seemed foolish but fulfilling all the same.

He could practically hear, 'Babe, that is not how you wipe the stove,' in his ear, making it hard for him to breathe. He could hear his wife's laughter, his son's silly and fake complaints, and relaxing music playing in the background.

Geno gripped his chest, not caring how his wet hands soaked his shirt. He slid to the ground, barely catching his breath. He felt like his whole world was crashing around him. Why was it so hard to breathe?

Honey, how can you let Mikeal outshine you by mopping the floor?

"S-Shut up." Geno loudly stuttered through his battered breath.

Oh no, honey, I think you caused the dishwasher to overflow.

"Please stop," Geno begged no one. He was hyperventilating. He couldn't stop the memories from flowing like a slideshow. They kept coming, pushing Geno into a panic attack.

He tightly shut his eyes, trying to remember how his son used to calm him down during the first year of losing her. (Even though he should have been the one comforting his son). 

Dad, follow my voice and count after me.

"1, 2, 3," Geno started counting forward and back. He kept going, listening to his son's voice in his mind as he started calming down. When he found his breath, he leaned against the oven, almost laughing at his failure to clean.

All it took was cleaning to break you down, huh? How pathetic. Geno thought. He was pathetic.

It started off small.

He never told his son about trying to clean and breaking down. He already threw everything on his poor son; he shouldn't add more stress. The only thing he regretted was never seeing the proud look that would have been on his son's face if he cleaned.

But he did message Nicholas the next day.

Geno: So, cleaning is not for me. Is there anything else I could try?

Nicholas: Okay, have you tried those exercising videos on YouTube?

Geno was happy that Nicholas didn't ask why he couldn't clean. He did not want to talk about his panic attack. He wished to forget that it happened.

Geno: Sounds like a pain.

Nicholas: Haha, I had a feeling you would say that. But you can find many types of videos; there are ones where you can do the bare minimum.

Geno: If you say so.

Nicholas: Trust me.

Geno: I am if I am even considering

Nicholas: Haha, have fun, Geno. And make sure not to push yourself too far.

Geno bit his lip, turning on his TV and clicking the YouTube app. He searched for simple exercise videos and saw one where you could sit down and only move your arms. Starting with his arms seemed like a perfect start.

So, he clicked on the video, sat down, and started doing the arm exercises. It wasn't bad. He sat through the whole video without freaking out. Geno counted this as a win, except for his sore arms.

He happily smiled, proud of himself for doing something from start to finish without help. He grabbed his phone, quickly messaging Nicholas.

Geno: I guess I do trust you.

It started small.