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He groans again and plops his elbows on the table. Muttering under his breath, he shoves his fingers back through his hair and closes his eyes.
“You’re a great dad, Truman.” I dab at my eyes, frustrated that I’m crying. “You’re every bit the dad I thought you could be.”
Now he pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut tight.
“You banned me from your life.”
“I never—”
“You did.” He opens his eyes and stares at me with heat and passion. “You banned me from your life. Yes, you let me spend time with Ryle, but you moved on without me.”
“You hurt me,” I wail and then ashamed of the way I’m lashing out at him, I put my hand over my mouth and stare at the table. Tears blur the green painted wood now. “What was I supposed to do? You hurt me, Truman.”
“I know.” He nods and looks away.
“You hurt me in the most intimate way you could,” I add. “And you never said you were sorry. And you never came back to fight for me.”
Truman sighs and rubs his hands down over his face.
“I thought you were better off without me,” he mumbles. “You were too good for me. You—”
“Don’t.” I shake my head.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t make this worse with silly excuses.”
“I’m not making excuses,” he argues. “Yes, I should have said I was sorry. But I know what I did, the things I said—I know, Julie, what I did to you. I know I disappointed you. I know you didn’t trust me with Ryle at first—”
“That’s not true.”
“It is,” he says quietly. “I get it. And yes, eventually, you learned you could trust me. That I wasn’t an idiot with a baby. I wasn’t taking him and shoving him off on my parents or Harper so I wouldn’t have to deal with him.”
I did wonder at first if he would do that, but I realized quickly that Truman loved our son and wouldn’t hurt him.
“I’ve had countless hours of therapy to learn that it’s not that you don’t trust me with him now. It’s that you’re overprotective, and I know that because I am, too. Because it’s part of being a parent. And I know that my feelings of inadequacy when it comes to Ryle are because of the guilt I still have for what I said when you told me you were pregnant.”
Stunned that he feels inadequate with Ryle, that he’s done therapy, I stare at him silently.
“You went to therapy?”
He flinches. Is he embarrassed to admit that to me?
“Yeah. I did.” He takes a deep breath. “We’ve both had other people in our lives, Jules, but you’re it for me. If I can’t be with you, I don’t wanna be with anyone.”
Another knife prick in my heart. I wince and look away.
He hasn’t said he loves me. It makes a difference.
“That’s what I keep trying to tell Dani.” I breathe deeply and feel my nostrils flare. My face is wet and sticky with tears.
“What?” He eyes me curiously.
“I’ve got Ryle,” I answer simply. “I lost the love of my life, but I’ve got Ryle.”
18
Truman
