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“Tomorrow is our daughter’s birthday. I thought we might spend the day together. Maybe do something in her memory.”
“Are you high?” The words seem to pop out on their own.
“You know, Leigh-Leigh, you aren’t the only one who lost a child. I still mourn losing her too.”
Oh. My. God. He has to be shitting me. “You mourned Sadie so much that you left me by myself while they were inducing my labor. You left the hospital and went to fuck another woman while I was giving birth to her.”
“Our baby had died. I was hurting. And I told you that I was sorry. Are you never going to let me forget that?”
I can’t believe that he still uses his emotional pain as a legitimate reason for being with another woman while I was delivering our stillborn baby.
“I don’t care if you forget what you did or not. It means nothing to me. Nothing!”
“I made a mistake, a big one and I admit that, but you have to forgive me at some point.”
Brad’s been wrong about a lot of things, but he’s never been more wrong about anything in his life. “I don’t owe you forgiveness because you demand it. Frankly, I don’t care enough about you or your feelings to forgive or not forgive. You aren’t on my mind. Ever. I’m over it. I’m over you, and I have been for a while.”
“You were over it a long time before we divorced. You stopped trying to make me happy, and that’s why I went looking elsewhere.”
He has an incredible way of bending the facts so that he comes out looking like the victim. Always has.
“Brad… I was working no less than four twelve-hour shifts every week. I picked up every extra shift that I could so you didn’t have to be distracted by work while you were pursuing your doctorate. I was too busy or too tired to fluff your ego because I was the one working to keep us afloat financially. Those sluts you were fucking didn’t have anything to do but go to class for a few hours and then fuck around with you. They didn’t bring in every cent in our bank account. They didn’t keep your house clean, your lawn mowed, the oil changed in our cars. And they damn sure didn’t wash your shit-stained underwear. Forgive the fuck out of me if I was too tired on my days off to spend them making you feel good about yourself.”
He’s silent.
“Fuck… you just don’t get it, Brad. Everything isn’t always all aboutyouandyour happiness. This invitation to get together tomorrow… it isn’t about doing something in Sadie’s memory. It’s about you finding a way to make you feel better about yourself.”
“I’m sorry, Leigh-Leigh. I never thought about it like that.”
“Because you’re incapable of considering anyone but yourself. You only care about you and what makes you happy. To hell with everyone else and their feelings.”
“That’s not true. I wanted you to be happy. I still do.”
“I am happy. I’m in a good place in my life for the first time in a while. Listen… I don’t mean for this to sound spiteful or hateful, but you’re toxic for me. There’s no room for you in my life anymore. And there hasn’t been for a while.”
“I can’t dispute that, not even a little. I did horrible things to you. I’ve been so damn selfish that I’ve not be able to see that until recently. I’m so damn sorry, Leigh-Leigh.”
I actually believe him. But it changes nothing.
“I accept your apology, and I forgive you, but we’re a thing of the past. You need to go your way and I’ll go mine. Lose my number. Never call me again.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“Yes, it does have to be that way.”
“Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“I wish you the best with a life full of happiness, but I never want to hear your voice again. Ever.”
“Then I guess that this is goodbye.”
“It is. Goodbye, Brad.”
I end the call before he can say anything else; I don’t want to drag this out any longer. No reason to.
Brad Mitchell and I are no longer unfinished business.
And it’s a good feeling.
