Page 97 of When I Had You

She laughs in response. “It actually is.”

I’m starting to think she could fill an hour with small talk, which is not typical for us. As much as I want to get along, I’m not opening the door to hang out like old friends. “What is it that you want to talk about, Terpidy?”

“I used the past two weeks to reevaluate my life and how I want to be more present in Cullen’s.”

I don’t hold her past against her because I was no saint, so I’m not one to lecture, but the part about her reevaluating her relationship with our son has me listening closely. I stop and look for him. He’s seven feet. Always pushing boundaries. “Cullen?” Turning back to her, I ask, “Why are you telling me this?”

Not shying away, she holds her head high and says, “I started talking to a therapist.”

That is not how I saw this going. “And?” I check on Cullen, who is spinning around and looking everywhere but at us. Guess we’re not interesting enough for him. This is one time I’m glad he’s bored.

Having the rest of this conversation in private is probably a good idea. We keep things light for the rest of the walk. And when I give him a hug and kiss his head, I say, “I love you so much.”

He leans back and taps me on the nose. “I love you so much, Daddy.”

We get him inside, and I take a few steps back down. I feel more comfortable keeping space and our lives unentangled outside of our son.

She sits on the top step of the stoop and says, “I’ve blamed you for so long that I believed the lies I told. I’m sorry, Cash. I’m sorry for what I put you through. I’m sorry for what I put Cullen through as well. But I’m also sorry that I treated myself so awful.” She’s busy fidgeting with the hem of her shirt but looks back at me. “I didn’t feel alive on that photo shoot last month like I used to in my twenties.”

Something I can relate to since I lost Marina.

Struggling to hold eye contact, she looks away when she continues, “I wish I would have gotten therapy years ago. I didn’t expect it to be so . . .” She laughs. “Therapeutic.”

Standing, she brushes the dust off the back of her skirt. “I know you’re probably anxious to leave. I won’t keep you any longer. I just wanted you to know that I’m getting help.” Grabbing the concrete railing, she appears to summon another bout of courage. “I love Cullen more than anything. I would never put him in danger.”

“I appreciate you safeguarding our son.”

“Yes, always.”

She’s said in court that Cullen was a priority on many occasions. This is the first time I believe her. I rub the back of my neck, wanting to give credit when it’s due, but uncertain what I should say. I can’t forget what she’s put us through, but she’s taking a big leap of faith in telling me. “I think it takes a lot of courage to get help. You wanting to be better for yourself is better for Cullen as well.” I smile, and it feels genuine around her, which is foreign more recently. “I also appreciate the apology. It means a lot.”

Healthier. Happier. That’s what is different about her.

I take a step down onto the sidewalk as she steps up to the platform.

Since this has gone so well, I push my luck. “I’ve been thinking about Cullen’s last name.”

Her brow peaks as her smile fades. “What about it?”

“I want to change his name to Warren. I thought Ryatt was about legacy and racing. I’d rather the legacy be tied to me as his dad. That’s how I want to be remembered.”

I expected her to be mad and flat-out deny me, so I have no idea why she’s smiling again. “Have you talked to him about it?”

“No, I wanted to talk to you first.”

Resting her hip against the railing, she says, “I appreciate that, but he’s already a Warren.”

“As the name he lists with Cullen.”

“I know what you mean. You’re a great dad. I’ll never take that away from you, but you’re more into the physical activities with him. You should see how he signs his artwork. I don’t think you’ll get an argument from him.” She heads to the door but doesn’t open it. “Cullen Bryne Ryatt Warren?” she asks, swapping the last two surnames around.

Feeling like we’re turning over a new leaf, I reply, “I was thinking Cullen Bryne Warren if that’s okay?”

Her smile grows as she opens the door. Holding her head down, she wipes her eyes. “It’s okay with me.”

“Thank you, Terpidy.”

I’m given a nod before she disappears inside. Just before the door closes, I hear her call to Cullen, “Come over here and give me a hug. I missed you so much.”

---