Page 30 of The Breaking Point

I whip around, stunned. “You know I wouldn’t. Ihateyou sometimes, Aiden, but I’d never do that to our kids.”

His face crumples in slow motion. “He’s never going to forgive me. Neither will Jack. And you…” His voice shakes. “You won’t either. This is it, isn’t it? I just lost everything.”

The old me would’ve softened. Would’ve reached for his hand, told him he was being dramatic. That we could fix this. But the new me? She wants to twist the knife. She wants to watch him bleed.

Instead, I take a breath and say, “He’s your son. You’re his dad. He’ll forgive you. Jack too.” It costs me more than I expected, taking the high road.

But then he ruins it.

“You never forgaveyourdad. What I did is worse.”

I set my jaw. Fine. If he wants honesty, he’ll get it.

“My father stood by for sixteen years while my mother humiliated me in front of their friends, party after party. He never asked about my life. Never showed up. He didn’t evenmeetthe father of my children until he absolutely had to. And the only reason he bothers now is because the children he actually liked never had kids of their own.”

I step closer, my voice steady, but colder than it’s ever been. “I never forgave him because hestilldoesn’t realize he did anything wrong. If you can’t see the difference between that and what you did, then maybe marriage counselling is a waste of both our times.”

I gather the dishes, drop them in the sink without care, and leave him there, steeping in his own regret.

Thirty minutes later, we’re all in the car on the way to the hospital. Judging by the sour looks on both the boys’ faces, Alex told Jack everything. The silence in the car is thick, tense, and hard to breathe through. I keep my eyes on the road. Aiden’s driving like we’re on autopilot.

When I see a drive-thru up ahead, I tell him to pull in. “Mom’ll need food. And coffee.”

We order and are told to wait. While we’re parked, I turn in my seat to face the back. Both boys have earbuds in. I gesture sharply. They yank them out, not happily.

“Listen,” I begin, steady but firm, “I know what you heard this morning wasn’t easy.”

Alex scoffs, crossing his arms. Jack’s jaw is locked tight.

I raise my voice. “But it isnotyour business. Your father and I are going through something. That is between him and me. It does not affect you.”

Jack doesn’t blink. “Why don’t you just divorce him?”

“Jack.” Aiden’s voice breaks on his name.

Jack doesn’t flinch. “You always say actions have consequences. I’m guessing you broke a pretty big rule.”

“I did,” Aiden says softly, but I cut in before this spirals.

“Yes. Your dad broke a rule. But it wasmine.I decide the consequence. Not you. Not your brother.” I glance between them, making sure they both hear me. “Your father is a good dad. And you will treat him with the same respect you give me. That is how you were raised. Am I clear?”

They both mutter some variation ofyeahoryes.

“Good,” I say. “Now let’s not mention this to anyone. Especially Grandma. The last thing she needs is more stress.”

No one speaks as we drive forward again, the weight of everything pressing down on all of us.

But at least, for now, we’re still moving.

Chapter 12

My father is fine.

By the time we make it to his room on the third floor, he’s awake and talking. Pale, tired, hooked up to more machines than I care to count, but awake. My mother sits at his bedside, looking exhausted but happy. Her smile widens when she sees me like she wasn’t sure I’d come.

She’s been trying lately. Trying to be a part of my life. Trying to make up for the past. I’ve let her, to an extent. But it is hard to forget things once you finally name them.

On my wedding day, she pulled me aside just before the ceremony. She said it washurtfulthat my father wasn’t walking me down the aisle. She asked how it would look to the rest of the family. I remember just staring at her, holding my bouquet with shaking hands, and asking, “Do you even know the name of my first boyfriend?”

---