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“Giselle…”
“You told me all the time when he was away. Just because you haven’t said it since he’s been out, doesn’t mean it’s changed.”
“There’s always going to be apart of me that loves your father. That’s never going to change, even if I’m with someone or he is,” I explained, dreading the words that came out of my mouth.
“I’m so mad at him. I’m so mad that he didn’t even let me meet her. Like my opinion doesn’t even matter.”
“Honey, I’m positive it’s not that. I’m sure he’s just waiting for the right time.”
“There’s never a right time to break my heart, Mom,” she cried.
“You’re so young. There’s so much you don’t understand.”
“What if she hates me and then she takes him away from me? I don’t want to lose him again when I just got him back.”
I wiped the tears away from her face. “That could never happen. He’s your dad, and that’s a bond no one can ever break.”
“Promise?”
I closed my eyes. Remembering every single time I said that to Dylan. Every. Single. Memory. Hitting me hard. Leaving me drowning in a sea of nothing but mistakes and regrets.
“Always,” I whispered loud enough so she could hear me.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry you didn’t get your happily ever after,” she bellowed for me.
Taking the words right out of my mouth.
I spent the night with her head on my lap as I comforted her the only way I knew how. I let her cry for as long as she needed I let her cry for me, because I knew that if I cried for myself.
I may never be able to stop.
I spent the entire night mourning the loss of something I never had. Our love had been gone for years. After every unopened letter that got returned, after every time the guard came back and told me he didn’t want to see me, every hope, every wish, every maybe simply turned into never.
Vanished in thin air.
Giselle finally passed out from the exhaustion of her tears and the next morning I made the phone call that kept me up all night.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“Yeah, we do,” Dylan replied.
“Are you busy with someone tonight?” I snapped, regretting my words immediately.
He was quiet for what seemed like forever, and I waited on pins and needles for him to just tell me he was getting married to a woman that wasn’t me.
“Come over at eight.”
“Okay,” I breathed. “I’ll see you tonight.” I hung up before he said anything else.
Terrified that he would change his mind and that I would have to tell him goodbye without us being alone.
One. Last. Time.
I knocked on his door right at eight and I swear a part of me feared that a woman would be there, too. That he was going to introduce us. When he called out to come in, I made my way inside. I couldn’t breathe the entire thirty steps it took to walk into his kitchen.
I knew because I counted.
It was the only way to keep me from passing out from the emotions that I couldn’t control for the life of me.
