Ten years ago, Kendra went through surgery alone.
Ten years ago, when my dream girl was only twenty-two, she had to find out she couldn’t have children.
Ten years ago, I was already friends with Joe.
Ten years ago, I’d heard of this beautiful woman, but I didn’t know her.
Ten years ago, I could have been there for her.
But… I wasn’t even there for her now.
She can’t have children, and I broke up with her because I thought…
I struggle to breathe.
Barely more than ten days ago, Kendra stood there as I told her she deserved better.
Barely more than ten days ago, I told her she deserved to have a family with someone else.
Barely more than ten days ago, Kendra stood there as I broke my promise, as I broke her trust.
Kendra stood there as I told her it was over between us, all because I made an assumption.
A horribly wrong assumption.
I release my grip on the edge of the table and press my hand against my chest. Wishing I could dig my fingers between my ribs and offer her my tattered heart in apology.
I’m so sorry.
I’m so fucking sorry for failing you.
For failing you in the worst kind of way.
She breaks eye contact, finally looking away from me.
How she can look at me at all…
I press harder against my chest.
“I talked to a therapist for a while,” Kendra tells her dad. “She helped me a lot. And, now that I’m older, I feel sure I would’ve chosen a child-free life.”
Joe is still wiping tears away. “You’re not just saying that?”
Kendra lets out a watery laugh. “I’m not just saying that. Kids are gross.”
Joe drops his hands to his lap, his shoulders sagging, his eyes bloodshot. “You’re gross.”
Kendra’s laugh is brighter this time. “I love you too.”
Joe sniffs. “You’ll tell me if something happens.”
She nods. “I swear it.”
“And you’ll tell me when you have another doctor’s appointment.”
I want to demand that she tells me too.
Want to insist that I’ll go with her.