Page 77 of Purity

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m still mad at you. You’re a dick for all the things you’ve done.”

“I know.”

“Walking in on you having sex with another woman was traumatizing. Literally traumatizing. I can’t even think about it without feeling like I’m going to have a panic attack.”

His expression grows somber. “You have no idea how much I regret my carelessness—”

I lift a hand. “Let me finish. Mom made a mistake. It was a big one, but it’s fucked up that you’ve punished her for sixteen years over it.”

“I know.”

“I just…” I meet his gaze. “I want you to know that I’ll be here for you during this divorce. I know you probably have a lot of reason to think I wouldn’t be, but I love you, and I don’t like that you’re in so much pain.”

He looks away from me and nods jerkily. I know it’s to hide the fact that his eyes are misting. Oh God, I don’t think I could handle it if he cried. I already want to burst with a tenderness I haven’t felt for him since I was a teenager.

“To be honest,” I say, “I was dreading starting work and having you as my boss, but I’m kind of looking forward to it now. Maybe we can start getting lunch together or something.”

His smile is almost boyish, and it makes something click into place in my chest. “We can start going to games again,” he says. “I can get Dodger’s season tickets.”

“I’d love that.”

Later that evening, I walk into my mom’s knitting room.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey.” She keeps her gaze fixed on her deftly moving fingers as she twists the blue yarn around the silver needles.

“So…Dad told me some things today.”

“Oh.” It’s a small, faint sound, but there’s a wealth of meaning behind it. There’s only one thing he could have told me, and she knows what it is.

“Yeah. He seemed like he was telling the truth, but I won’t believe it until you confirm it.”

She shuts her eyes, her face grimacing. “It’s true.”

My throat grows tight, and I take a deep breath through my nose. “That’s okay, Mom. I mean… Not that you were apologizing, but…”

Her grimace grows. “Do you wish I’d told you?”

I swallow. “No. It’s none of my business. I wish I hadn’t made so many assumptions about your marriage. I wish I had just left it between you guys.”

She nods slowly. “I thought I could shield you kids from all of it, but looking back, that seems naive. I probably should have divorced your dad years ago. It would have been healthier for you all in the long run.”

My body tenses. “Stop making it all about us. Think about yourself for once.”

When her gaze snaps up, I finally see the tears, and my heart jumps into my throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s okay, honey.” Her pained expression softens, and she wipes under her eyes. “Do you want to finally learn how to knit? I could use the company.”

“Not even a little bit, but I can hang out with you while you knit. I could also use the company.”

When she smiles, I join her on the couch.

“Do you want to laugh?” I ask as I pull my phone from my pocket. “Last night at, like, three in the morning, I sent this completely unhinged text to Livvy, and it’s so pathetic, even I laughed when I reread it this morning.”

She glances down at her needles. “I won’t find it funny.”

“Oh, Mom, you underestimate me. I become a poet when I’m depressed. A really, really shitty one.”

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