Dear Scott,
I’m sorry.
I jerked my head back.What did she have to be sorry for?I kept reading.
But I can no longer deny who I am.
I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I’m sorry I don’t have the courage to stay and face people’s curious stares and whispered remarks. I’m sorry that you have to try to explain this to Audrey.
My entire life, I’ve tried to ignore it, fight it, deny it. But doing so any longer would be an even bigger betrayal of our marriage—our friendship—than even my transgression. I didn’t mean for it to happen, any of it. I didn’t mean to fall in love with her.
I love you. I love Audrey. And I don’t deserve either of you.
Raise her well. You’re a good man, an even better father. And I have all the faith in the world in you.
Xx,
Anita
I sank back on my heels. Oh my god.Oh my god.My breathing was ragged, and I reread the letter again just to be sure I’d understood. My mom was…my mom…
Someone placed their hand on my shoulder, and I screamed. I startled and fell backward, unable to catch myself. Sprawled on the floor, I stared up at Ethan.
He crouched next to me, brows furrowed. I hadn’t even heard him approach. Hadn’t heard him enter the house or climb the stairs. Hadn’t heard him call out for me. And though his lips were moving, I still didn’t hear a word he said.
Finally, he placed his hands on my arms, his eyes meeting mine. It felt as if a tape unwound in my head, sounds and smells rushing to fill the void quickly and then slowing to their normal pace.
“Audrey? Talk to me. Is it your back? Are you in pain?”
I shook my head, pushing myself to a seated position. “No. I—” I handed him the letter as my mind struggled to process everything.
All these years. All this time, I’d blamed my dad. I’d said horrible things to him, and he’d never once spoken ill of my mom. Despite what she’d done, he’d never once cast the blame on her. He’d never called her names, never even defended himself.
“Whoa.” Ethan sank down next to me, reading the contents. “Wow.”
“Yeah,” I breathed. “That’s—that wasn’t what I was expecting. Did you know?” I asked, thinking back to some of his comments the night before.
He shook his head and folded the letter carefully before returning it to me. “Your dad never really spoke about her. And she wasn’t in any pictures. For a long time, I just assumed he was a widower until I heard rumors around town that she’d left. Though no one seemed to know why.”
“I just—” I stared straight ahead and hugged my knees to my chest. “All these years.” I shook my head. “I was so angry. I was so mad at him, and he never said anything. Why? Why would he let me believe the worst of him?”
Ethan lifted a shoulder. “Maybe he was embarrassed?”
“Maybe,” I said, though it seemed unlikely.
My dad had always been very accepting and welcoming. He’d championed same-sex marriage and helped a number of couples adopt through surrogacy. Though he might have been hurt by my mom’s actions, I didn’t think he’d be embarrassed or ashamed that she was gay. At least, assuming he was able to move past any feelings of betrayal.
“I think maybe he was trying to protect her,” I finally said.
“And you,” Ethan added. “It’s a small town. People talk.”
“I know, but I hate that she felt like she had to leave. Like she was a disgrace or an embarrassment. Yes, people would’ve talked. But they would’ve moved on eventually and accepted it.”
“You’re right.” He rubbed a hand over his scruff. “The people of Sunnyville are nothing if not inclusive. I mean—take my past, for example.”
“You don’t think he was secretly holding out hope that she’d return, do you?”
“Could be,” he said. “Scott always was a firm believer in second chances. But more than that, I think he didn’t want to tarnish your image of your mom.”
