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I nod. “A lot.”
We fall silent, all thinking about my confession. We’d never sat and spoken about any of it. When Cain died, Meg couldn’t handle the guilt, so she confessed all to the cops who were investigating, and it all came out. My parents were too busy yelling and grieving to talk rationally about it or understand. We even had to stay away from his funeral. But I see now that leaving wasn’t a solution, it just prolonged the pain.
“Your mum thinks Cain wouldn’t want us to cut you from our lives,” Dad mutters. “She wanted to reach out to you so many times, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t forgive you, and I don’t know if I ever can. But knowing that you loved her, I guess that makes it a little easier to understand.”
“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I can’t forgive myself. All I’m asking is that you forgive her. Help her to raise Cain’s kids because he’d want that. He’d want you to look after his wife.”
“Are you and her?”
I shake my head. “No. Neither of us can handle our guilt, and Meg regrets everything. She’s so cut up over Cain, I don’t know if she’ll ever move on. For her, it was an escape from the boring housewife she thought she’d become. She felt unattractive and unloved. Knowing Cain Junior is his baby is a huge relief for her.”
Dad nods, and Mum takes his hand. “Where did you go?” he asks.
“London.”
“Are they expecting you back?”
I shake my head. “No. I kind of fucked up there too.”
Dad rolls his eyes almost playfully, and it reminds me of how we used to be together. “A woman?”
I nod. “Yep. Broke her heart to come back here.”
“If she loves you, she’ll forgive you,” says Mum, patting my hand.
