Page 90 of Absolution

“No, sorry. I shouldn’t be putting this on you. It was me. My actions. And I need to take accountability. I keep saying I want to be better, but that doesn’t mean anything if I only do it when it’s easy.”

Kyle leans against the counter, staring at the floor like it’s got answers he never asked for. His voice is quieter this time, hoarse.

“It wasn’t just you I hurt, Jackie. It was them too. And I haven’t even told them about Duke yet. I don’t know how to do that.”

I watch him. There’s something about seeing him like this, unguarded, broken in a way that feels too raw. My chest aches. These were his actions, yes. But I don’t think he ever really believed that the kids would ever find out. I don’t think he thought he’d actually lose them.

“They still love you,” I say quietly.

He lets out a short, bitter laugh. “It’ll go away. The way I was? It’ll fade. All I’ll be is the guy who blew it.”

I shake my head. “You might’ve been a sucky husband, Kyle. But you’re a good dad. They know that.”

His eyes flick up to mine.

Kyle doesn’t say anything. Just looks. Like he’s trying to figure out if I still see him the same way. If there’s any part of me that remembers the man before the betrayal. The one who made me laugh without trying. The one who talked me down whenever I spiralled. The one who, for a long time, I thought I’d grow old with.

The silence stretches.

I should look away, but I don’t. I can’t. His gaze is raw, searching. Not just for forgiveness, he knows better than to ask for that but for something else. A thread still tethering us, maybe. Something to prove we weren’t just a cautionary tale.

The kitchen hums around us, the refrigerator whirs, the faucet drips once, faint and rhythmic. Even the light feels different. Warmer. Softer. Or maybe I’m just imagining it. Filling in the gaps where the words should be.

The oven timer blares, shrill and mechanical. It slices straight through the moment like a knife, loud and jarring. I blink, exhaling a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

We both move at once, me brushing invisible lint off my jeans, him grabbing the oven mitts and pulling the lasagna out. The smell hits me, and stupidly, it almost makes me tear up.

God, I’ve always loved his lasagna.

I clear my throat. “So, What happened at the school? With the kids?”

“Oh,” he says, setting the dish on the counter. “I guess there’s this kid, Tracy. In their class. She, uh… apparently knows Lucas.”

My spine straightens at hearing Lucas’ name from Kyle’s mouth.

He continues, quietly. “The kids said Tracy made some comments. About you. About him. Said you were easy. That he didn’t even like kids. That you were just desperate.”

I close my eyes, feeling like shit.

“She said Lucas was gonna be their new stepdad. That he’d never let them see me again.”

I flinch. Then exhale. “You know I’d never let that happen, right? Not that Lucas is...”

Kyle nods. “Yeah, I know. And Lucas is a lucky guy.” His voice goes soft. “I just hope he doesn’t mess up and lose the best damn woman in the world.”

I freeze.

He said it like a throwaway line. Like something that’s just… true. But it lands in the middle of my chest like a weight.

Kyle unties the apron, folds it neatly like he hasn’t just shattered the air between us. “Well. I should take off. I doubt they’ll come down while I’m here.”

He turns and walks off quietly, shoulders low. I hear the front door open, then slam shut.

I blink out of it and suddenly I’m moving, feet carrying me without thinking.

He’s at his car, door open, halfway in.

“How dare you say that!” I shout.

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