Page 83 of Crossroads of Love

“Jay?” I say softly, my voice breaking the silence.

She glances up from her book, her brow furrowing a little in that way she does when she knows something serious is coming. “Yeah?”

I take a breath, my heart doing that awkward stutter-step it always does when I’m nervous. I try to keep my voice steady and calm even though my insides are a tangled mess of emotions.

“Can we talk for a minute? About your uncle and me?”

She closes her book, her lips pressing into a thin line. She’s quiet for a second, then shifts in her seat, sitting up straighter. “I figured this was coming.”

I let out a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “You know me too well.”

She doesn’t smile, though. Instead, she looks at me with those serious eyes of hers, the ones that seem to see right through me. “Are you gonna ask me if I’m still okay with it?”

I blink, surprised by her directness. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

She sighs, her shoulders slumping just a little as she leans back against the armchair. “I dunno, Mom. It’s weird, you know? Uncle G was always just...Uncle G. I never thought you’d...you know, date him.”

I nod slowly, understanding exactly where she’s coming from. “I get it. It’s weird for me, too, sometimes. But I guess I just wanted to know how you’re feeling about it. I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

She’s quiet again, her eyes drifting toward the window for a moment like she’s lost in thought. Then she looks back at me, and there’s a flicker of something I can’t quite read in her expression.

“I mean...it’s not like I thought you and Dad were happy or anything. I kinda knew you weren’t, even when you tried to hide it.”

Whoa. I didn’t see that coming.

She’s only sixteen, but sometimes, it feels like she’s so much older, like she’s seen more than I ever wanted her to see. I swallow hard, feeling the sting of guilt creep up on me.

“I’m sorry, Jayla. I know things between your dad and me weren’t great. We tried to keep you out of it.”

She shakes her head, brushing it off. “It’s not your fault. It’s just...I get it. You’re happier now, right? With Uncle G?”

There’s no hesitation in my answer. “Yeah. I am.”

She bites her lip, her eyes dropping to her lap. “I can tell. He treats you...he treats you way better than Dad did. And he actually listens to you. You guys laugh together. I don’t remember when you and Dad laughed about anything last.”

My heart tightens at that, but it’s the truth. Gavin does make me laugh. He makes me feel light in a way I haven’t felt in years. He’s steady and thoughtful, and even though the past between us is complicated, being with him feels right.

“I never wanted you to feel like you had to choose between us,” I say softly, knowing how much Jayla adored her dad, even when things were falling apart.

She shrugs, but a sadness in her eyes tells me she’s been carrying more than she lets on. “I’m not mad at you, Mom. I always wished you would leave Dad because you deserved better. He was never around, and when he was, it was like we were always walking on eggshells. And I mean, it’s weird, but I see how happy Uncle G makes you. And I can see he loves you.” She pauses for a moment, her voice quieter. “That’s what matters, right? If you’re happy?”

Her words bring a lump to my throat, and I can’t help but reach out, taking her hand in mine. “Yeah, it is. And it means a lot to me that you’re okay with this. I know it’s not easy.”

“I love Uncle G. He’s a good man.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me how you felt about your father and…?”

“I overheard another parent say that you probably stayed for me, and I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Baby girl, you could never disappoint me for using your words and being honest with me. I…I did tell myself that I stayed for you, but in reality, I stayed because I was too scared of being alone, of being seen as a failure, of disappointing you.”

“You could never disappoint me either, Mom. I was here in the trenches with you, I guess you could say. I saw what you had to endure. I loved Dad and always will, but I wasn’t blind not to see the truth of your marriage.”

“You’re so wise for your years.”

“You made me that way. Sometimes I…I feel guilty because I forget that Dad’s dead and that I should be sad. He wasn’t around so much that…it just feels like he’s at work still. I cried harder when Henry died.”

My heart shatters at that comment, but mostly because I felt the same way and had no clue my daughter was dealing with the same emotions.

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