Page 81 of Returning Your Love
I would miss some parts of having Shelly around but wouldn’t allow grief of any sort to dictate my life any longer.
The lack of peas, however, made me smile.
“You seem happy,” Mom noted.
“No peas,” I answered honestly, and Dad actually barked a laugh.
I jerked my head toward him, and he coughed, wiping his smile away as though ashamed by his outburst. “You hate them too?” I asked him.
He glanced at Mom—and nodded.
“Clifford!” Mom exclaimed, eyes wide. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“Because you love them, and I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Dad said, his cheeks a shade of pink I’d never seen before.
“Well.” Mom huffed and slid a slice of ham onto her plate before handing the platter to me. “Perhaps a little morehonestyin this household might be a good idea from here on out.”
Agreed, one-hundred percent.
“You’ve been speaking your mind for weeks on end, woman,” Dad said but with softness in his tone rather than chiding. “It’s been…refreshing in ways I never would have expected.”
“On that note,” I said, taking three slices of ham because I was hungry for a good meal, goddamnit, “I’ve been seeing a therapist since October, and I’ve learned more than I expected. Need to share a lot too.” I handed the platter to Dad, whose lipsreturned to their usual thin line. “Getting help isn’t weakness, Dad. It’s being responsible and taking care of yourself when things around you are beyond your control. She’s shown me how to put my…well, shit, into perspective.”
Mom didn’t chide my language, nor did Dad argue my statement.
We finished plating our food and began to eat while I decided how to best state the truth I’d been living since marrying Shelly.
“Would you rather wait for this discussion until after dinner?” Mom asked, but I got the sense she offered out of sensitivity toward me rather than demanding I keep the peace until we finished. She probably wanted me to fill my stomach before walking out again if that was where the conversation ended up.
Seeing as how we didn’t have anything else worth discussing until this was out in the open, I shook my head. Might as well get shit laid out on the table now so I could enjoy apple pie and coffee afterward.
Hopefully.
“Shelly was having an affair.”
Dad’s fork clattered to his plate, and he gave me his full attention, brow furrowed and gaze searching.
I refused to feel the blame I expected he thought to push onto me and continued before he could open his mouth. “She was pregnant with another man’s child and planned to divorce me.”
“Charles.” Mom’s voice broke.
“Our relationship was on the rocks for years. My inability to give her the family she wanted, the fights, my staying away from the house to escape—” I cut myself off, refusing to put Shelly down. “I failed her in many areas of our marriage. Definitely wasn’t the best husband, that’s for damn sure.”
Both of my parents stared at me, Dad’s face struggling to remain stoic, Mom teary-eyed and lips trembling.
“I’m not pulling shit out of my closet to make her look like the bad guy but being honest so you know how I’m feeling. If you care.”
“Of course we do,” Mom insisted quickly.
Dad swallowed hard, dropping his focus to his plate and slowly picking back up his flatware. He cut into his ham but studied the bite on his fork before speaking. “It takes true grit to admit we’ve let our loved ones down.”
I waited to reply since his tone and careful word choice hinted he wasn’t done.
He chewed his ham, his eyes downward. “Perhaps I haven’t been the best of fathers. I’m sure I haven’t lived up to my own potential or your expectation in that regard.”
You think?
I held in my snort and shoved a bite of sweet potatoes into my mouth, letting him stew in whatever emotions he had going on in his chest in that moment.
