Page 89 of Free to Believe
I stumble backat the polite vitriol in the simple message. I expected Dani to get a call and to be able to pump her for something, anything, about how Emily is. These few lines tell me nothing other than Emily feels she has a debt to pay—one I made her think she owes. Which couldn’t be further from the truth.
God, help me. God, help us all.
I’m far from perfect, but I love her and I’m willing to do anything to get her back.
Anything.
Even if it’s just to hold her to tell her it wasn’t her fault so she can walk away into a future believing she’s worth everything.
54
Jake
“Itake full responsibility for what happened, Dr. Thurman.” My hands clasped between my knees bounce up and down. “I hurt a beautiful woman—a woman I love—all because of what?”
“It’s called transference of anger. You weren’t really mad at Emily. You were viciously furious at the driver for being drunk behind the wheel, and most importantly, you were mad at yourself for not taking Em yourself. You let loose emotions which are very human, Jake. You just did it at the wrong target.”
“And I’ve lost the love of the two most important women in my life in the process,” I say grimly.
“I wouldn’t quite say that.” Leaning over to his desk, my psychologist lifts his phone. “Linda? Can you send Jenna in please?”
What the hell? My head snaps around as the door opens to my daughter. I hope I hide my cringe when I see her still hobbling toward us using her cane.
Guilt.
It wasn’t Emily’s fault. It was mine.
All told, Jenna was fortunate. After Emily saved her life, and once she was cleared by neurology after banging her head on the dash caused her to slip into a temporary coma, Jenna managed to escape the accident with a few bruised ribs, a sprained wrist, a torn-up ankle that will take months to rehabilitate, and a body covered with cuts and bruises.
The worst thing she ended up with was the same thing I did though: a broken heart.
“Hi, baby,” I say softly. I don’t expect her to say anything back. After all, she’s barely said anything to me unless she’s been forced to.
But today? There’s something different in her eyes. “Hey, Dad.”
I close my eyes as the beautiful pain at hearing that simple sentence washes over me. Dad. “God, Jenna. I’m so sorry, baby.” Standing up, I take the few steps to stand in front of her. “I made so many mistakes,” I choke out.
“Then fix them,” she says simply.
“It isn’t that easy, Jen.”
“Dad, the biggest issue you have to conquer is in this room. It has nothing to do with anyone else,” she says wisely.
I stare down at her in shock.
Placing her cane aside, she lays her hand on my heart. “Aren’t you the one who taught me there has to be a baseline to go with any melody? Well, you have to fix your head and your heart, Dad. It won’t be easy, but if you’re not in rhythm, how do expect the rest of us to join in? Besides,” she jokes with tears in eyes that mirror my own, “we all know Em can’t play a tune worth shit. You’re going to have to be the one to teach her. You have to make her understand we’re worth another chance.”
“You’re the best miracle I’ve ever been given,” I whisper, gathering her slowly into my arms.
“Then don’t you think it’s time to forgive the other half of the person who helped give you to me? I started to the minute I woke up. Just because she wasn’t meant to be with us doesn’t mean she’s a horrible person.”
“Do you mean your mother, Jenna?” Dr. Thurman asks.
She nods against my chest. “I’ve hated her for years for leaving. But in light of what I went through—what we’ve all been through—I realized she isn’t a bad person; she just wasn’t meant to be a mother, a wife. She wasn’t meant to stay. And that’s all right. There are people who are meant to be temporary in our lives.”
“Not Em,” I say firmly.
“No,” Jenna says softly. Moving to one of the two chairs in front of Dr. Thurman’s desk, she reaches inside her bag. Pulling out an envelope, I seize up, recognizing it immediately.
