“No, Chloe. It made me realize you deserved better. I wanted more for you.”
“So you lied to me?”
He at least had the good sense to look a little guilty. “Yes. I did what I had to do in order to give you a bright future and a chance at something more than a shitty life as a logger’s wife in rural Maine.”
The admission knocked the wind out of me. “And the letter you gave me?”
With a long breath out, he lowered his chin, averting his gaze. “Mitch wrote it.”
My stomach churned, and my blood ran cold. I needed to get out of here and away from all of this. I’d been so resolute, so certain of what had happened. But everything I knew had been a lie. Sold to me by someone I trusted.
“Gus said he wrote other letters.”
“Yes.” He nodded once. “I still have some of them.”
My heart tripped over itself. “You do?”
Brushing at the knee of his khakis, he sighed. “I didn’t open them, but given the messages he was leaving on the answering machine, I could only imagine what they contained. I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away. So I tucked them aside and pretended they didn’t exist. Eventually, he stopped sending them.”
Hands fisted in my lap, I reined in the urge to lash out at him. “I want them.”
He heaved himself out of his seat slowly. “I have some things of your mother’s that I set aside for you too. Some of her books, jewelry, and other small things. There are a couple boxes in the basement. Give me a moment.”
My heart ached. I wanted every single piece of my mother that remained on this earth. But no object could ever fill the void that she’d left. Especially now, as I was beginning my own motherhood journey.
I was waiting at the front door when he came back upstairs. Without a word, I took the plastic bin from his hands and turned to leave.
“You don’t have to forgive me,” he said, his tone distraught. “I know I fucked up. But look at you. Look at all you’ve accomplished. Look at the strong woman you’ve become.”
I put the box down and turned to face him, disgust and anger boiling up inside me. “My accomplishments are no justification for lying to me. For manipulating me. Jesus, Dad. Do you hear yourself? You took away my free will and broke my heart in the process.”
He narrowed his eyes, his chest puffing out. “I did the best I could at the time. You’re not a parent. You can’t understand.”
“Turns out I am a parent.” I cradled my belly. “I’m pregnant. That’s part of the reason I came here, to learn the truth so I can move forward with my life.”
His face lit up. “A baby? That’s wonderful news.”
This should be a happy moment. I was telling my father about my child. But I was full of anger, and if I was honest, feeling detached. We’d never been close, and it had never been more clear why than in this moment. Because he didn’t respect me enough to tell me the truth and let me make my own choices.
My feet itched to move. I couldn’t be here anymore. In this familiar house filled with memories. I wanted to be with one person. My person.
I needed his comfort and his support. Things I’d never sought from another human being before now seemed as essential as breathing.
“Goodbye, dad,” I said, picking up the box. “I need to think for a while. Thank you for this and for finally being honest with me.”
Chapter 29Chloe
The drive back to Lovewell was only twenty minutes, but I didn’t feel ready to take on the lonely mountain roads. The setting sun only made me more anxious. My mind spun. It was all a lie. He hadn’t given me up for his family’s company or to impress his dad. He’d loved me as much as I’d loved him.
I still couldn’t process it. My father and I had never been close, especially after mom died, but what gave him the right to make decisions for me? And to justify them the way he had? I had been twenty. Young, sure, but still an adult.
So much of my adult life had been built around that year. Mom’s illness, her passing, my siblings, and then Gus. Our love story and then the painful ending.
My villain origin story, as Karl called it. And I’d wasted precious years of my life just stewing in my anger, hurt, and trauma.
Gus had been my target. All my anger and hatred had been misplaced. I’d been cruel and dismissive, and he hadn’t deserved any of it. Yet he’d taken it, and he’d allowed me to yell and snub him without complaint.
Not only did I owe him an apology, but I owed him a real chance. At being together, at parenting. We’d lost so much, and we could never get those years back. The sadness that surrounded that truth, what could have been, weighed heavily on me. But there were new possibilities. This baby. A fresh start.
After leaving my dad’s, I’d stopped at the natural food store for more ginger products—the morning sickness was getting worse, not better.
The Main Street here was nothing like Lovewell. No small-town Americana. No pretty parks or wide sidewalks.
It was an old logging town with a highway that cut straight through. Gas stations, fast food stops, and a dollar store were the main attractions.
But tucked near the post office was a hidden gem. I’d grown up coming here with my mother for vitamins and fancy imported tea. Yes, it was sandwiched between a pawnshop and an empty storefront that looked like it had been overtaken by rabid raccoons, but this baby was wreaking havoc on my GI tract, and I knew I’d find relief among the natural remedies they carried.
My arms were full when I left the store. I’d found so many fun types of decaf tea, and I’d picked up treats for JJ and Karl. My heart clenched when I thought about them heading back to Seattle without me. We’d become a little family, and while I hadn’t made up my mind yet, I was feeling more and more like I wanted to raise my child in Maine.
As the sun began to set, I still wasn’t ready to head home. So I sat in the front seat of my car, eating organic chocolate and reading through the stack of letters Gus had written to me. Letters apologizing for forgetting about my mother’s birthday, letters begging me for forgiveness, letters describing how deeply he loved me.
After four or five, I had to put them down. It was just too much. I couldn’t rewrite the past. We’d been young and stupid, but deeply and profoundly in love.
And while I’d spent so much time angry and bitter about the loss of that love, I’d finally been given a second chance. So why was it so hard to put aside all the hurt? Why couldn’t I trust that he would stick around forever?
I needed to get myself together and drive home. At the end of the block, I spotted a trash can. So I gathered up my candy wrappers and used tissues and headed over to dispose of them.
