Page 82 of The Last Time

“I just got this letter from Dad’s lawyer,” I explain, then proceed to tell her what it said.

She takes a moment before speaking to let it all sink in. Mom never rushes to a response, choosing instead to pick her words carefully.

“How do you feel about what he wrote?” she asks gently.

I sigh into the phone, not knowing how to respond.

“I don’t know,” I say through tears. “I feel…angry. At him for letting it become what it did, at Penelope for getting in the way. At myself for not trying harder. I feel bad that he found himself stuck in the middle.”

“That makes sense. You just read it, so it may take some time to really process it all. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Just let whatever emotions come to the surface have their place. Nothing you feel is wrong.”

“What did he mean when he said he wasn’t in a good headspace when he left you?” I ask. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“If you’re asking me for my honest opinion, I think he has suffered from depression for a while. He was always looking for something to cure his woes outside of himself. It was either my fault because I wasn’t adventurous enough, or the life we built was too regimented. I tried to tell him he needed help, but growing up in our generation, men were told never to open up or be vulnerable. It’s a different time now.”

“I see. How come you never told me that?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I suppose I didn’t want to put words in his mouth. It was just my opinion. After we divorced, it didn’t seem like my place to tell you what I thought about him. I never wanted to make it seem like I was bad-mouthing him.”

“Makes sense. I’m sure I would’ve just told you it’s all just an excuse. To some degree, though, no matter what the reason is…it will never be good enough.”

“Not at all. He should’ve gotten help so he could show up and be present in your life. It sounds like he knows that, and he regrets it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I say through another round of tears.

“You don’t have to do anything right now. Just take some time to let it sink in and be gentle with yourself.”

“Okay. I can do that.” I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry to bother you while you’re at work.”

“Never apologize for calling me when you need me. I’ll call you later tonight to check in. Okay?”

“Okay. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, sweetie.”

Give myself time. I can do that. I place the letter back in the envelope.

Right now, I just want to get back to work so I can get some distance from it all. That might help me sort through the spiderweb of emotions.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Asher

“SaygoodnighttoCharlotte,”I tell Brie after she’s done with her last-minute cartoon before bed.

Brie runs over to Charlotte in her onesie pajamas and gives her a hug. “Night, Charwotte.”

“Goodnight, Princess.”

Charlotte smiles as she hugs my daughter then Brie runs back to me.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell Charlotte.

As I walk Brie back to her bedroom, I start to think about all the moments we’ve shared with Charlotte together over the last few weeks. Brie is absolutely smitten with her, and Charlotte seems to share the same sentiment.

I don’t know what it all means.

We haven’t talked about our fight the other night. I keep avoiding the topic.

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