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He shrugs as if the answer is obvious. “Go visit. Hell, volunteer for a month. Do it every few months, but go there, be present. And if the time comes when you need the courts help to get your daughter back, it’ll be proven that you were there for her.”
I don’t want to admit it, but what he says makes sense, even if I hate every part of it. I don’t know if I can give up Amelie. We may butt heads right now, but she’s still my daughter. My baby. I can’t imagine her living across the world, living the lifestyle her mother wants to live. I doubt Amelie would survive.
“Do you really think that’s best?”
“I’ve told you what the alternative is, unless you can get Mrs. Ashford to stay here.”
That’s unlikely.
“I guess I have a lot to think about where Amelie’s concerned. About the divorce, though, I’d like to move forward.”
He nods and starts writing again.
After the appointment, I go home, hoping Aubrey’s there and wishing she isn’t. What a fucking feeling to have.
Inside, soft music plays from the bedroom. I make my way down the hall and stand in the doorway. Aubrey’s dancing, swaying to the music. We used to do this at night, after the kids went to bed. It was our thing. Our way to calm down before turning in for the night. Watching her I try to remember when we stopped dancing, when we stopped caring about each other. The thing is, I still care about her. Hell, I love her. Am still in love with her.
She turns and startles. The happy expression she had morphs into anger. Hatred. When and why did this happen to us?
“Don’t be mad,” I say to her. “I came home to talk. I don’t want to fight with you, Aubrey.”
“Then give me what I want.”
“It’s not that easy. You want to destroy our family and take my children away from me. Just thinking of not having them here, in the house they grew up in, rips my heart out. They’re my life. You’re my life. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for the three of you . . . except this. I can’t. We can’t do this to our son.”
“I don’t want to be here anymore, Nick.”
“I know, so let’s compromise.”
“What do you have in mind?”
I take a big breath and lean harder into the doorjamb. “Liam and Josie have invited Mack to go skiing in Vermont after Christmas. Their entire family is going. Noah, too. I told Mack he can go.” I hold up my hand when she starts to say something. “Yes, I should’ve talked to you, but I’ll be honest, Aubs, you haven’t been the easiest to talk to as of late.”
“Go on.”
“With Mack with the Westburys’, why don’t I fly with you and Amelie to Johannesburg. I’ll help you get settled. I’m worried about Amelie and how she’ll acclimate. I gather you’re heading to a village?”
She nods.
“Have you thought about schooling? Living arrangements? Her activities? You’re selling her on this lifestyle, and I’m afraid she doesn’t understand it.”
“I’ll figure it out when I get there.”
“Aubrey, what are you going to do with a ten-year-old who is used to living like this?” I wave my hands in a grandiose gesture to everything she and the kids have. Everything I’ve provided for them, to give them a comfortable life.
“She’s going to learn material things aren’t needed in the real world.”
I nod and want to wish her luck, but I don’t say anything. There’s no way I can let Amelie go to South Africa with her mom. It would be like her going alone.
“So, that’s my offer. We can leave after Christmas.”
“No,” she says pointedly. “I plan to spend Christmas with my parents.”
“They don’t celebrate Christmas,” I remind her.
She has nothing to say.
“Do you really want to interrupt their Christmas?”
