by Louise Bay
Twenty-Six
Gabriel
This meeting would be utterly pointless. When I’d pressed my lawyer for more detail on what my ex-wife wanted to discuss, I’d simply been told that she wanted to talk about what happened. Well, I wasn’t interested. But I’d treat this like our monthly partners meeting: I wasn’t interested in most of those but I sat through them anyway. Usually, I spent the time figuring out the answer to some complex tax issue that was stalling my current acquisition, or a real estate problem that had affected price on my latest disposal. This would be no different. I would sit there, but I wouldn’t engage.
I’d insisted the meeting would be at my lawyers’ offices and in front of our respective representation. I didn’t want her to think this meeting was personal.
It was business, nothing more.
I caught the lift before the doors closed and went to press the button to the eighth floor, but it was already illuminated. I straightened and faced the doors, wondering whether a preemptive bid on the tech deal I was working on was the way to go.
The lift stopped at every floor and I stepped aside, letting people from behind me exit. On the third floor, I looked up as the doors closed and there she was.
The woman I’d stood at the altar with and vowed to love the rest of my life.
The woman I’d brought a child into the world with.
The woman who’d walked out on our family with no explanation.
“Gabriel,” she said in a whisper.
I turned back to face the doors and she stepped closer.
“You look good, Gabe.”
No one called me Gabe except her.
I hated it. When we were married, I’d thought it was intimate. Special. But all of it had just been fake. All the times she’d said she loved me. All the plans we’d made for the future. Nothing about her had been real.
“How’s Bethany?” she asked.
I wasn’t sure I could endure this meeting without burning the place to the ground. How dare she ask about my daughter? I ignored her and focused on the numbers above the doors as they flashed four, five, six, seven—the doors opened, and I waited for her to step out. When she didn’t, I went first and headed straight to the reception desk without looking back. The receptionist showed me to the meeting room and my lawyer met me at the door.
We sat and waited. Gillian knew me better than to try to make small talk.
Someone knocked on the door and I stood, my eyes fixed on the blank wall in front of me as my ex and her lawyer were shown into the meeting room. I sat, not wanting to greet either of them.
“Thank you for coming, Gabriel,” Penelope said. I’d forgotten the timbre of her voice and how sweet she sounded. It was one of the first things that had attracted me to her. But she was anything but sweet.
I looked her right in the eye. “I have twenty minutes and then I have to get to another meeting.”
“Always so busy,” she said with a smile.
I didn’t reply. This wasn’t a conversation as far as I was concerned. It was a means to an end. If I sat here for twenty minutes, I’d get the divorce papers signed. It was as simple as that.
“Well, I appreciate you making time in your day for me,” she said when she realized I wasn’t going to respond.
Without warning, she stood and moved her chair around the table so we weren’t across from each other but kitty corner. What was she doing?
“I want to say I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry for not talking to you. I’m sorry for leaving and I’m sorry for not being in contact since. I know it must be impossible to forgive me, but I wanted you to understand that I know I was wrong, and I take full responsibility.” She took a deep breath when she finished, seeming relieved to have it all out.
It took all my strength not to laugh. She said it as if she was expecting me to be grateful. That I would tell her that as long as she knew it was wrong, it was fine—she could do anything she liked if only she accepted responsibility. But I didn’t laugh. I didn’t say or do anything. I just focused on the clock overhead and how I only had eighteen more minutes of this to endure.
“I don’t want you to think I didn’t love you,” she continued. As if I cared. “I did. And . . . still do.”
This time I couldn’t hold back my laugh. What she was saying was so ludicrous. So utterly ridiculous.
“It’s true, Gabe. I never stopped loving you. I was just scared that my life was all planned out. I was young. And bored. And tired. And I wanted to explore what else life had to offer.”
I glanced at my solicitor, wondering if we could wrap this up early. I didn’t need Penelope’s explanations. What was done was done. It didn’t matter how we had gotten to this place—we were here.
“I left because I would have turned into someone else if I’d stayed.”
I didn’t respond. But part of me wanted to. The lawyer in me wanted to rebut her arguments. We all change and grow as the years go by. I’d thought we were going to do that together. As a couple—as a family.
I glanced at the clock again. There was too much time left.
“I made a lot of mistakes,” she continued. “And I understand I hurt you. And I hurt our daughter.”
She hadn’t hurt Bethany. When Penelope left, Bethany had been too young to remember having a mother. She and I had been fine, and were still. We were a team.
“But everyone deserves a second chance. And I’m asking you to give me mine.”
My gut twisted like it was an old towel being wrung out by a heavyweight boxer. She couldn’t be serious. “You’re asking me what?” I said, almost hissing the words.
“I want my family back.” Her voice hitched at the end of the sentence. A ghost of a memory made me flinch.
I’d heard apologies like these a long time ago. Over and over, I’d heard my father ask for one more chance. And another one. And another one. Infinite fresh starts hadn’t been enough for him.
“Your family doesn’t exist,” I said simply. What did she think? That she was going to meet me after three years and I was going to be so grateful that she’d come back, I’d welcome her with open arms? Did she really think I was that desperate? What could she possibly think she had to offer Bethany or me? Nothing except disorder and broken promises. Nothing except a cloud of expectation that it would happen again. I didn’t want to exist in a world where every day I remembered that Bethany and I weren’t enough to make Penelope stay the first time, and that we probably wouldn’t be able to keep her from leaving again.
I wouldn’t put up with that for me, and certainly not for Bethany. My daughter deserved better. She deserved to be brought up by a parent who kept their promises and loved her enough to stay even when life got difficult.
“I know you’re a good man, Gabe. I knew Bethany was safe in your hands.”
I tried not to roll my eyes as she spoke.
“I needed to leave,” she continued. “I needed to go to understand how much I had at home.”
She had no home with me or Bethany.
“And now, I’m back and I want to be part of your lives.”
The buzzer went off on my phone and I stood. “Twenty minutes is up. I have a meeting.”
I swept out of the office, knowing that by the time I reached the lobby, Gillian would be calling.
She rang before the lift doors opened.
“She wants to see Bethany,” she said before I had a chance to say anything. “She said that if you won’t take her back, then she wants a custody arrangement.”
My lungs filled with concrete and I sucked in a breath, trying to find air. Custody? “She’s a stranger to my daughter,” I choked out. “She can’t do that, can she?”
I staggered to the door, desperate to steady my breath.
“She’s the biological mother. Of course she won’t get fifty-fifty custody at this point, but the court will allow visitation.”
After all this time, she could just waltz back into our lives and try to pick up where she l
eft off? And just expect that we could all go back to how it was before?
“No,” I said.
“We can fight,” she replied. “But given her position, we might be better off trying to come to an agreement. You might end up with more that way, Gabriel.”
“No,” I repeated. There was no way I was letting her anywhere near Bethany.
“Think about it. We want to avoid a court battle. It’s expensive and will take you away from your daughter. In the end, you’ll have to give her something.”
I hung up. I couldn’t listen to it any longer. I needed to get home. I had to protect what was mine.
Twenty-Seven
Autumn
I put on Bethany’s nightlight and folded back her bed covers. She hopped in without me having to ask twice.
“Sleep tight,” I said, smoothing back her hair. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” I kissed her on the forehead and headed out, leaving her alone with her dad. I watched from the doorway as Gabriel bent and told his daughter he loved her.
“Can you stay home tomorrow, Daddy?”
“I don’t know, darling. But I’ll try to come home early more.”
“Margaret likes to have dinner with you,” she said, referring to her dolly. “And Bear Bear.”
“I like having dinner with them as well.”
Something bad had happened. He never came home from work early but this afternoon, he’d returned, changed, and spent the rest of the afternoon with us. Baking animal cookies and decorating them before having a doll’s carpet picnic, during which Bethany licked the icing off at least three quarters of everyone else’s cookies.
I didn’t question him being home. I asked him if he wanted me to leave him and Bethany together and he’d answered with a squeeze of my hand.
It was nice having him spend the afternoon with us unexpectedly, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight, once Bethany was in bed, he was going to tell me about his wife wanting to see him.
I padded downstairs and fixed myself a soda. “You want anything?” I asked as he arrived in the kitchen. “Seems like maybe you need a beer to take the edge off.”
“Yeah. I’ll get a beer. You want one?”
I shook my head, raising the can of soda in my hand. No, I wanted to keep a clear head. I needed to be calm and rational without alcohol putting its two cents into the mix.
“Bad day?” I asked as we headed into the TV room.
“Yeah,” he replied. The dark circles under his eyes made him look older than he was. I was sure he hadn’t had those when he left this morning. When we sat, he shifted me closer to him and put my legs over his.
“Wanna talk about it?” I asked.
“Not really,” he said with a sigh. “But I need to.”
“Whatever it is, there’s always a silver lining,” I said. I believed it was true. Whatever life brought, there were always lessons to be learned, maybe even laughter to be had along the way.
“I wish that were true.”
I slipped my hand into his, wanting to reassure him that everything would work out.
“I saw Penelope today.”
Even though I knew she’d wanted to see him—had known for days that it was a possibility—it was still a shock to hear him say her name and to know that they’d been together today.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have told you that it was going to happen, but I thought it would just be a formality. I assumed she just wanted closure and then she’d disappear again, like she did before.”
So she wasn’t going to disappear. She was back. It had always been a possibility; I just thought I could wish it away.
“But it’s not a formality?” What was he trying to say? Were they getting back together?
“You don’t seem shocked,” he said. “I thought you might be upset with me because I’d not told you.”
I wasn’t going to lie to him. “Actually, Hollie told me by accident when I met her for lunch. She assumed I’d know.”
He closed his eyes as if disappointed. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. Why didn’t you say something?”
“I figured you’d tell me if you thought it would affect . . .” I wanted to say us, but I wasn’t sure what us meant. “If you thought I needed to know.”
“I wanted to but . . .” We were both holding back. We were both not saying things and I wasn’t sure if that was because Gabriel was unsure of what to say or because he thought I wouldn’t want to hear it. “Anyway, for whatever reason, I thought I’d handle it and she’d sign the papers and that would be it.”
“But instead?”
He groaned and tipped his head back to rest on the couch. “Instead, she wants my forgiveness and she wants to see Bethany. She’s threatening a custody battle.”
A shiver of shock rushed up my body. I pulled my legs from his and sat up. “She can’t do that, can she?”
“Apparently she can.”
“But she left. And Bethany wouldn’t know her if she met her.”
“I know,” he said. “I said all this to my solicitor, but it doesn’t matter apparently.”
“You’re a great lawyer. You’ll fight it.”
He paused, a look of concentration on his face. Running through the options, I guessed.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do. Maybe I’ll let her see Bethany, she’ll get spooked again, and will disappear for another three years.”
“Spooked?” I asked. We’d never discussed why his wife left and Hollie said no one knew. Not even Gabriel. “Is that why she left before?”
He pushed a hand through his hair. “She’d never offered an explanation until today. She said something about how she was young and bored and wanted to see what life had to offer.”
“And now what?” I asked. “Now she’s decided the grass isn’t greener after all?” I was angry for Gabriel. Angry for Bethany. Angry that someone could be that selfish. “Maybe she should have thought about that before getting married and having a child.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. She was Bethany’s mother. Gabriel’s wife. He’d loved her once.
Gabriel took a swig of his beer. “Right.” He sighed and shook his head as if everything was hopeless. “I don’t want to spend more time away from my daughter because I’m fighting a custody case that I’m going to end up losing.”
“Why would you lose?” That didn’t make any sense to me. Sometimes it felt like the three of us were in our own bubble of happiness. I didn’t want it to burst.
“Gillian says without some concrete reason like abuse or addiction, the court will award her something. I suppose the courts believe in redemption.”
I let his words sink in. The courts believed in giving second chances. And really . . . wasn’t that the right thing to do? Weren’t people allowed to make mistakes? God knows, everyone made them. If Hollie hadn’t given my parents a thousand chances, they would probably be homeless by now. If she hadn’t put up with me being an asshole at times, I would have never been able to finish college. Families gave each other second chances—and third and fourth and infinity chances, didn’t they? But walking out on your infant daughter and husband for three years was more than a mistake. Maybe there was no way of righting that kind of wrong.
I stayed silent, aware that whatever I said might not be helpful. I liked to look at the bright side, but Gabriel had taught me that sometimes it was important to sit under the cloud for a while. And he likely wasn’t ready to hear how it might be better for Bethany to have her mother in her life.
“So what’s next?” I asked, trying to stay neutral.
“Gillian is trying to find out what Penelope’s endgame is. God forbid she wants full custody.”
“She didn’t say at the meeting?”
“No, she was too busy trying to convince me we were a family and that she wanted to try again.”
My heart burned in my chest. Penelope didn’t just want to be back in Bethany’s life. She wanted Gabriel back, too.
>
I placed my hand on his stomach. I needed to feel him. I wasn’t sure if I was looking for him to reassure me, but he just stayed silent and placed his hand over mine.
Right in that moment, I wanted to tell him that I’d never felt for anyone what I felt for him. I wanted to say that I couldn’t be excited about travelling or the future in general because thoughts of tomorrow meant that whatever we had today would shift, and I’d never been so happy. I wanted him to turn to me, clasp my face in his hands, and say he felt exactly the same. I wanted him to reassure me that he didn’t want his wife back. That he wanted me—only me. That he saw Bethany, me, and him existing in this bubble forever.
But silence stretched between us and I couldn’t help thinking that this was the beginning of the end. We were about to be over before we had even begun.
Twenty-Eight
Autumn
Today was about Bethany. I was just her nanny. Her caregiver. Her protector. I should remain professional and bury the nerves swirling about in my stomach.
The doorbell rang and I wanted to throw up.
“Postman?” Bethany asked as I stood from where we were bandaging up Bear Bear’s arm.
I didn’t want to lie to her, but I didn’t know how to explain who was at the door. Gabriel was at work—everyone agreed that it would be better if he wasn’t here when Penelope came around. There had been lots of rules put in place before Gabriel had agreed to today. The first meeting between Penelope and Bethany would be an hour long. It would take place in this house. Penelope wouldn’t bring gifts. Penelope had to be accompanied by an independent psychologist. There were other things Gabriel had told me about, but they had gelled into a hard ball in my gut. I just knew I wasn’t going to leave the room. Not for a second. Gabriel had hired a security guard who would be stationed outside the house all morning. It was clear he didn’t trust Penelope with his daughter. And who knew what her game plan was? The more I thought about it, the less I understood her explanation for leaving. Even if she’d felt trapped and bored—why be gone for so long? Why come back now? Why hadn’t she stayed in touch? Sent Christmas presents? Something.