Page 12 of Gabriel & Skye

Hartley smiles. “Looks like I’m here to stay.”

“Well, I’m glad,” I tell her. “Gray is a lot more compliable when you’re around.”

She laughs. “Does that mean I have to sit in on all your meetings?”

Gray scoffs. “Not if you don’t want Gabe to bore you to death.”

I’m tempted to flip him the bird, but that would be rude in front of Hartley, so I refrain.

“He’s definitely less moody, too,” I add. “So thank you, Hartley. I owe you one.”

“Then all we need to do is find you a woman too?” Hartley waggles her eyebrows suggestively. “If that’s all it takes to make you Bassett brothers happy.”

I laugh now. She’s good. Very good. But me and women… That’s a different story.

Aside from my one-night escapades — which I haven’t indulged in for quite some time — I’ve focused the last few years solely on my daughter. I can’t say it’s been an easy road, but I’m grateful for my family and friends, and the community. When they heard what Tiffany did, they all rallied around to help where they could. For that, I’m forever grateful.

It’s a bitter pill to swallow; my wife chose her career over her family. Neither me nor my daughter deserved the cards we were dealt. Least of all, Trinity. She was just a baby.

Explaining to her about her mom when she asked as she grew older was the hardest thing I've ever done. She’s only five now, so she doesn’t understand, but I know she missed out on so much with not having her mother in her life.

Tiffany never made it truly clear why she never wanted to come back. I guess her career was way more important than her family was. I can recall some of the conversations over and over on replay in my head like they were just yesterday, but none of it brought us any closer to reconciliation, or peace for that matter.

The burning question still remains; how could she leave us?

“Gabriel, I just don’t think you understand,” she said. It’s been a couple of weeks since she left and there is no sign of her returning. “There are things I need to do. I’m just not feeling like myself being at home all the time.”

I hate how she has to do this over the phone. “But you’ve started back at work part-time, you’re not at home all the time.”

“Being a mom isn’t enough. I’m sorry, but it isn’t. You always knew I was career-minded, Gabe.”

I get that she still wants her career, and I was always okay with that. I didn’t expect her to just give up who she was because we now had a child. But it’s only been a few months since Trinity’s birth.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Tiffany, she needs you. We both need you. You need to come home so we can sort this out.”

“I can’t. Not right now. I need to sort out my head.”

I didn’t even want to bring this up with her being a doctor, and I didn’t want to sound like an asshole. “Maybe it is postpartum depression, Tiff. It happens, I’ll do whatever it takes. We can work it out together.”

“I didn’t mean to sort out my head because I’m depressed. It isn’t that. I’m sick of you saying that.”

“How do you know it isn’t that?”

“Because I would know. The pregnancy came as a huge shock, you know that. I wasn’t ready for it. And I don’t know if I ever would’ve been ready. I didn’t feel what you’re supposed to feel.”

I feel the lump in my throat. My body drained from her words. She’s slipping further and further away, and my resentment for her is growing.

It also stuck in my mind that she’d already taken her wedding rings off.

Was it always her intention to never come back?

“It was meant to be. Look at how beautiful Trinity is!” How could she not see it?

Clearly, she wasn’t well. She couldn’t just not love us anymore. I refused to accept that.

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