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Oh no.

Nessa

Six of Swords.

Is that good?

Nessa

Depends. You’re still in the boat. But you’re facing the right direction now.

Closing the group chat, I get in my car and head home while the sun is still up. Still getting used to it in the best way possible. The short drive is the beginning of my new decompression process, trying to leave it all at the office. Putting on my favorite songs playlist, I let my mind leave the day’s worries behind. My phone rings, interrupting my favorite song.

Unknown Number

Normally I’d ignore it, but with inquiries coming in for Lane Legal, I answer.

“Phoenix Lane.”

There is silence on the other end of the line at first. “Sweetie?”

I freeze, recognizing the voice I haven’t heard since my last birthday, by my choice.

“Dad.” The word feels unfamiliar, small for everything attached to it.

“Well, that’s usually a better reaction than a telemarketer, I think. I’ll take it.” He laughs, somehow sounding happy and nervous at the same time.

Despite myself, the corner of my mouth twitches. “Why are you calling? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, fine. I heard about the new job! How are you liking it?”

Of course he did. Somehow, my father manages to know everything about my life despite missing most of it.

“I’m proud of you. Working at the Durham Foundation is amazing; you’ve always had the biggest heart mixed with the sharpest mind.”

The words hit harder than they should, making me swallow back the emotion. “Dad. What are we doing?”

“What do you mean? I’m trying to catch up.”

I close my eyes. “No. Don’t do that.” My words are sharper than I mean. “You weren’t there. And I’m not talking about your marriage to Mom. That’s your business, and frankly, I get why you two didn’t work out.”

I think about the parents I’ve worked with over my career. The ones trying. The ones showing up. The ones fighting for extra visitation time because missing a soccer game felt like the end of the world.

“There are parents I work with every day who move mountains for their kids.” My throat tightens, but I need to get this out. “Why didn’t you fight harder?”

He’s silent for long enough I worry he might not answer. When he finally speaks, his voice sounds different, aged.

“Telling you I had a good reason would be a lie,” he stammers, which hurts more than I expect.

“Dad—”

“It wasn’t one decision, Phoenix. It was a hundred small ones. One missed weekend because I had a work event going to run late, and it was easier than dealing with your mother to request a modification to the schedule.” He chuckles darkly before continuing on. “One time, I decided not to argue about her change because I thought it would make things worse. Then it turned into one year, telling myself I’d do better next year.”

Something painful settles in my chest.

“I was a coward.”

I close my eyes, trying to hold back the tears as he continues on.