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“Well, Sarah did suffer from postpartum depression in a serious way. It took me months to get her back on track, but she is doing well now.”
“Which is fine. And I’m sorry you battled that, Sarah,” I said as I looked over at her. “But I made you a promise when we got married. I promised you I would be there with you through anything. And instead of talking with me about what was going on with you, you abandoned me and your children and left without a trace.”
“I’m sorry, Kevin,” she said. “But I want to make things right.”
“Postpartum depression can account for your actions after your pregnancy, but not before. You never wanted the twins. I had to beg you to go through with the pregnancy. You told me you never wanted to be a mother,” I said.
“Maybe we should slow down,” the doctor said. “Give Sarah some time to breathe.”
“With all due respect, doctor, she’s had three and a half years to bre
athe. I’m the one who’s been cultivating a company and raising twins by myself,” I said.
“That’s not fair. I’ve had my struggles in life,” Sarah said. “Struggles you can’t even imagine.”
“My concern is that this reconciliation is a knee-jerk reaction to the abduction of my daughter.”
“Our daughter,” she said.
“And that once the shock of all of this wears off and she realizes how hard raising two four-year-olds is, she’ll disappear on us again and I’ll have to pick up the pieces. And this time, the kids will know who she is and feel the pain of her loss where they didn’t before. I won’t let them go through that.”
I could hear Sarah sniffling, but it didn’t hurt me like I thought it would. What I found, instead, was my incessant comparison of her to Brooke. She wasn’t as strong as Brooke, as honest as Brooke, as beautiful as Brooke, or as open to hearing my side of the story as Brooke would have been.
Then, the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks.
I didn’t want to try to reconcile with Sarah.
I was in love with Brooke.
Holy shit. I was in love with Brooke.
“Mr. Spencer?” the doctor asked. “Is something wrong?”
“I can’t do this,” I said.
“What?” Sarah asked.
I heard the tone of her voice change and it even caught the doctor’s attention.
“Sarah, deep breaths. Like we talked about.”
“You told me you wanted to reconcile,” Sarah said.
“No, I told you we could talk about it. But Sarah, I don’t trust you. And I’m not sure if I ever will. I think we could take the time and reconcile as people. Maybe get you some time with the kids. But us? We’ll never be together.”
“I want us to be a family,” Sarah said, as tears rolled down her cheeks. “You and me and the kids. Like it should’ve been.”
“Then you should have talked to me instead of running, Sarah. You should have talked to your husband. The man who threw down everything when he found out you were pregnant.”
“That isn’t fair. I was depressed. Spiraling.”
“And you got help. And I’m thankful for that. But that doesn’t mean I can trust you, and it doesn’t mean I could ever love you.”
“You don’t mean that,” she said, breathlessly.
“Sarah, let’s take a step back for a second,” the doctor said.
“You seem stable, and that’s a good thing,” I said, as I reached out for her hand. “And maybe with some more therapy, we could carefully ease you into the lives of the kids in some way. But we’ll never be a family. Not the kind you’re looking for.”
