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“How do you know my son’s name?”
“Why is he Grant Duncan and not Grant Colleymore?”
“It was his choice to take his mother’s maiden name when he turned eighteen. Like I said, we don’t really speak. Not unless he’s calling to curse me for his miserable life. But you haven’t explained how you know Grant.”
“Remember that deadbeat boyfriend whose debts have my life in danger?”
I look deep into her eyes as the weight of her words hit me. I don’t want to think about what she is saying.
“Well?”
“Please tell me it’s not Grant.”
“I can’t do that.”
I spring up. “Fuck!” I slam my hand against the desk hard. I go to stand at the window and look outside. But I see nothing. My world feels as though it’s crashing in on me and I’m powerless to stop the weight under which I’m being buried. Of all the beautiful sweet things I had to pick, it had to be my son’s ex-girlfriend. Our conversation on Saturday morning comes back to haunt me, and I feel my heart begin to tear apart. There is no way I can try to maintain a relationship with Sidney now. I’m a big part of her problem, and based on the picture Grant has probably painted of me to her, she more than likely hates me now. Hurt cuts through me at the thought of losing her. And I feel horribly guilty about how I had pushed away all caution and taken advantage of her from the beginning. I know I’m being tough on myself. But it is what I need to do right now – remind myself that I don’t deserve her at all.
“Is that why you ran out on me yesterday? How did you find out?”
“The pictures in the box by the door.”
I turn to look at her. “Sidney, you have to believe me when I tell you I had no idea you were involved with my son,” I tell her.
She looks at me with doubt in her eyes. “I thought you were a good man. But you’re the reason Grant is the way he is. You’re the deadbeat father he was always ranting about. I can’t believe you could leave your wife and child like that to fend for themselves.”
I stare at her. “To fend for themselves? Rebecca and Grant were far from destitute.”
“He needed a father and you weren’t there.”
“Do I at least get the chance to explain myself? Even a condemned man gets a last speech.”
She rolls her eyes and looks away.
“I was young, barely out of high school. Rebecca and I had been seeing each other since junior high and we thought we knew all about what life had to offer. So, a few months after graduation, we got married.” I sigh and shove my hands into my pockets. “In short order, I entered the military and Rebecca got pregnant. I’ll admit, I was not around much being overseas so often. And yes, I’ll admit that when I was around, I was more of a drill sergeant than a father.” I shrug and walk back to my desk, taking care not to make any contact with her. I’m already feeling the pain of separation from her. “I made my mistakes and I own up to them. Grant needs to do the same. He keeps using me as a scapegoat. I bet he didn’t tell you how many times I’ve begged him to go to rehab. Or about the time I found him stoned half to death, got him into rehab, and got him a job with a client after he cleaned up only to have him go right back to using. I may not have been the father that he wanted. But I tried my darn best with my limitations despite the hatred that comes my way because of it.” I’m a mess of emotions right now. “He was the one who called Saturday night just before I came upstairs, you know?” I hold my head in my hands. “He wanted me to send him a plane ticket to come home. Of course, when he wanted the cash up front, I refused.”
I look at her, feeling nothing but pain. Her head is down and I see her wipe her cheek. I want so badly to pull her into my arms and hug her until this passes. But I dare not. I stay where I’m.
“I didn’t know he had been to rehab,” she says quietly.
“He has. And I’m trying to get him to go back but he refuses. He’s in Ireland with his mother right now.”
“I see.”
There is silence for a few minutes. I look at her, but she refuses to look at me. After a while, she clears her throat.
“Can you pack my things and bring them here for me please?”
Her words are stabs to my already shattered heart. I force my tone to be nonchalant.
“Sure.”
“Also, we both need to move forward and get on with our lives. So, the past few months never happened.”
If I had thought my world had come to an end before, those words are the final nail in the coffin. I want to order her to perish the thought of breaking up with me and that there is no way we’re going to separate. But there is that side of me that knows I don’t deserve to be happy and that this disappointment is my punishment for all the mistakes I have made in every relationship in my life. And it’s that same side coupled with the guilt now riding me that has the last say.
“Okay.”
“Thank you.”
