“I’m sorry,” I say again, because there’s nothing else.
“I know you are.” She leans back in her chair. “And I’m not going to pretend this is easy for me. Watching Lily come home talking about Syd and Daddy’s date and how Logan made her popcorn—that was hard. That was really hard. Because she’s excited about it, and it’s just hard.”
I want to reach across the table. I don’t, because I’m not sure she’d want me to. “You’re a good mom, Bree. A great mom. The kids adore you.”
“I know they do. And I know that you being in their lives doesn’t take anything away from me. Logically, I know that.” She glances at me. “But logic and feelings don’t always cooperate.”
“No. They really don’t.”
We sit in silence. The café hums. My latte grows cold, and I don’t care.
“How is he?” she asks, and the question surprises me.
“He’s, uh—he’s good. Really good, actually.”
“Good.” She nods, and I can see she means it, even though it costs her something. “He was never going to be good with me. I think I knew that before I even married him, but I thought I could be enough.” She picks up her coffee. “I wasn’t. And it took me a long time to understand that it wasn’t about me not being enough. It was about you already being there.”
“Bree, I—”
“Let me finish.” She holds up one hand. “I’m not saying this to hurt you. I’m saying it because I’ve been in therapy for eight months working through it, and the conclusion I’ve come to is that you can’t compete with a love story that started when someone was fifteen. You just can’t. And I spent six years trying, and it made me miserable, and leaving was the healthiest thing I’ve ever done.”
“It was brave.”
“It was survival.” She finishes her coffee. “So here’s what I need from you, Sydney. Take care of my kids. Love them theway I know you already do. And if Archer does something stupid—because he will, because he’s Archer—call me. We’ll handle it together.”
I laugh before I can stop myself, wet and shaky, and she almost smiles.
“And the custody stuff?” I ask.
“My lawyer wants things formalized. This isn’t about punishing you or Archer; it’s about protecting the kids. Structure is beneficial for them, and frankly, it’s good for me too.”
“I understand.”
“Good.” She picks up the check before I can reach for it. “I’ve got this.”
“Bree, I asked you to coffee. Let me—”
“You can get the next one.”
I look at her. “There’s going to be a next one?”
She stands and pulls on her coat. “I have to co-parent with you for the next fourteen years, Sydney. We might as well learn to like each other.”
She walks out. I sit at the table alone, staring at my cold latte, pressing my hands over my face and breathing deeply.
That was harder than anything I’ve ever done. Harder than asking Archer to be my first at seventeen. Harder than watching him get married. Harder than packing a suitcase and flying to New York with no plan.
I sat across from the woman whose husband I’ve loved for half my life, told her the truth, and she was kinder than I had any right to expect.
My phone buzzes.
Archer:How’d it go?
I stare at the screen, recalling her words:you can’t compete with a love story that started at fifteen.I think about the fact that she picked up the check and mentioned there’d be a nextone; that might be the most generous thing anyone has ever done for me.
Me:She’s a good person, Arch.
Archer:I know she is.
