Page 61 of Insidious

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. I’m sorry for being a fucking prick.”

He steps closer.

“Luna … I’m not trying to justify it. It was wrong. I know that.” His hand tightens around mine again. “I’m begging you. Just … give me a chance.”

I look at the man I still love.

And for a moment, I wish I felt only indifference.

“I don’t know if I can,” I tell him, letting him see the absolute exhaustion in my eyes. “Because you are only thinking about you and you and you … When are you going to start thinking about your daughter? About me? I am sorry you were feeling helpless. Sorry I made you feel that way when I could barely get out of bed. When I felt separate from everything … even my own daughter. So, forgive me if I was not supportive while you were having your little emotional meltdown with your ex. Did you go crying to her with, ‘Nobody loves me anymore’?”

I just want to scream at him, throw the laptop at his stupid head, make him hurt, rip his heart out, like he is tearing out mine.

A whimper from the crib pulls me back.

“When you start thinking about us and not just yourself, and are ready to admit that you were in an emotional affair with your ex, that will be the moment we can talk like adults. For now, I would appreciate it if we don’t separate immediately,” I repeat my earlier words. “Because Amelie needs me, and I need her.”

I say it to the wall behind Isaac, not to him.

I don’t want to see his face.

“You think …” His voice is different now. “You think I would take her away from you?”

My fingers tighten into fists.

“If they deem me an unfit parent …”

“No. No—Luna, I would never do that. To you or to her. Never.”

I nod once, because what else is there to do with that?

“But can you let me stay?” he asks, softer now. “Can you let me try to undo this? I’m begging you. I don’t want you to forget, but … can you forgive?”

Forgiveness.

That belongs to another version of me—one I don’t recognise anymore.

“There’s something I need to know,” I finally say.

“Anything.”

“Have you done anything else with Chloe?”

He looks like I have punched him.

“No. Never. I would never … I don’t even like her,” he says, frustration bleeding through. “I let my insecurities—this wouldn’t have happened if I’d been there for you. And I wasn’t. I know that. I’ve failed you.” His voice drops. “But Luna … Never again.”

A promise too late.

“I will never touch Chloe. Or anyone else. I only want you.”

A heartbeat passes.

“You’re all I see.”

The words make me feel uncomfortable.

I don’t let them take root in my heart because I don’t know what to do with them. I don’t know if I believe them.