Page 96 of Open Secrets
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Maria — Present
“So… things are good between the two of you?”
I nod, almost surprised by how easily the answer comes. “Oddly, yes. I mean—I still have moments of insecurity, of course. But he’s gotten very good at… you know.” I pause, smiling despite myself. “At making me forget.”
Her eyebrows lift, teasing.
I wave a hand, feeling heat creep up my cheeks. “Not just that. I mean—yes, that too. But more than that. He makes me feel like… like a teenager again. Giddy. Wanted.” I let out a soft laugh, the kind that comes from somewhere deep, the kind I didn’t think I had in me anymore.
“And you’ve talked as well?” she asks gently.
“Yes, of course.” My smile softens. “If anything, we’ve become closer than ever. Whenever he starts to worry—about Cece, about the Army, about… anything—we just talk. We don’t bottle it. If we see a house listing we like, we call or text. And we endup staying on the phone so long that one of us finally has to say, ‘Okay, hang up.’ It’s ridiculous.”
I lean back, sighing, my chest warm. “It’s like when we first started dating. He’d sneak into my house, and we’d climb up to the roof. Just sit there, whispering about everything and nothing. Hours would pass like minutes.”
I smile wistfully, eyes unfocused. “It was a different time back then. A different us.”
Dr. Nina tilts her head, her smile calm but steady. “It seems like you and Lyle are finding those people again—the versions of yourselves that first fell in love.”
I nod slowly. “We are.”
She shifts in her chair, hands folding in her lap. “And how’s your relationship with your father-in-law?”
Just like that, my smile drops. The warmth drains out of me like someone flipped a switch.
“There goes my mood,” I mutter.
Her expression doesn’t change—still gentle, still curious. “He’s the only one you’ve avoided talking about.”
I shrug, stiff. “There’s nothing to say.”
“Maria,” she says softly, leaning forward. “What’s stopping you from accepting his apology?”
A bitter laugh escapes me, sharp in the quiet room. “Apology? He hasn’t apologized. His wife has. His son has. Even his daughter. But him?” I shake my head, my jaw tight. “He’s never once said,I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
Dr. Nina’s eyes flicker, catching on the words. “And that’s important for you.”
“Of course it is.” The words fly out before I can stop them. My chest rises and falls fast, like the memory itself is speeding up my heartbeat. “I forgave Reagan because—at the end of the day—she tried. Not directly, but she did try to check on us. And I didn’t accept. I let my pride get in the way. But with his dad…” I trail off, pressing a hand to my temple.
“With his dad, Itried.I actually went to him. I begged for help.Literally begged.And he looked me in the eye, called me pathetic, and turned his back. Didn’t try. Didn’t help. Just—‘nope.’ Like I was nothing. Like my children were nothing.”
I sit back, air leaving my lungs all at once. “And you don’t come back from that. You just don’t.”
Dr. Nina taps her pen in her lap, her voice careful. “All I ask is that you keep an open mind.”
I nod, but only because I don’t want to hear the speech I know is coming—the one about how Orson is old and probably doesn’t have long. Iknowthat. That’s why I’ve allowed him back into my children’s lives. Doesn’t mean I want to call himDad.
I clear my throat. “My dad’s doing well.”
Her face softens. “You’ve been back to see him?”
I nod again. “Yeah. I took Remi and Taylor with me. They wanted to see him, and honestly, I thought… maybe seeing them would spark something.”
Dr. Nina’s smile is gentle but sad. “Dementia is… quite hard. Not just on the patient, but on the families too.”
I lean back on the sofa, twisting my fingers together. “The kids were sports about it. They told him stories, little things about school and their friends. He may not have recognized them,but…” My throat thickens, but I push through. “He was happy. And that’s something.”
