Page 87 of Whatever It Takes

He nodded his head and looked away. His face was carved with pain and regret. I took a minute to study him. There was no denying that Grant Anderson was a handsome man, but he was also damaged and broken too. Much more than I ever knew. My eyes traced along his strong jaw up to his lips that were pinched tight from my words. Lips that I’ve kissed many times, lips that whispered endearments and assurances. He brought his hand to the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut like he was begging the universe to make this all go away.

The agony from the sob that broke free caught me off guard. “Please,” he begged. “Tell me what I can do. I’ll do anything to make this right.”

And there was my opening. My Hail Mary that I’d been praying for. “You can start by signing the divorce papers.” My tone was even and unwavering. “And then you can sign away your parental rights to our daughter.”

His eyes shot open. “No.”

“Grant, you cannot physically care for her. Do you really want her to spend the next twenty to thirty years visiting you in prison? Is that what you want for her? Think about what is in her best interest. Think about someone other than yourself.”

“I love my daughter more than anything. I know I fucked up. But Charlotte,” he pleaded. “I’ve been a part of her life since the day she was born. I raised her. Rocked her to sleep when she was sick. Built her swing set in the backyard. Taught her how to ride a bike.” His frustration was rising. He slammed his palms down on the table. “I’m her father!”

I jumped. “Really?” I knew I shouldn’t poke the bear, but there was no stopping. I had enough. “You want to play that card? If you love her you will put her first. She has been through enough. I will promise you this though. If she wants to see you, I won’t tell her no. I won’t keep her from your family. I just want her to live a normal life. Free of all this. Do you really want to shackle her to weekly visits? Expose her to this kind of environment?”

He was quiet, finally understanding the consequences of his actions. He closed his eyes, trying to keep the tears back. There was a crazy battle going on inside my own heart. I had the freedom to get up and walk out of this room after our visit. Live my own life. Where he will be confined to cement walls for the next twenty years at least.

The air was heavy, leaving us with nothing else to say. He reached for the manila envelope and pulled out the documents. I expected the lawyer in him to read them over at least twenty times. Go through them with a fine-tooth comb.

I held my breath and tried to steady my heartbeat. Instead of stalling and drawing this out any further, he picked up the pen and did the last thing I expected.

He signed every last one.

Seeing him sign his name across the legal documents destroyed something inside of me. Don’t get me wrong, it was what I wanted, but it seemed so final.

“You know.” He sighed, throwing the pen across the table. “I always knew that I was on borrowed time with you. Yet, I still tried to give you everything you needed and hoped that it would be enough to work through our issues. But I failed you and Emery. You both deserved better.”

My eyes snapped up and locked onto his, searching for any sign that he was playing me and found none. “You know the sad thing about all this, Grant. I believe you. I know you’re sincere. I know you love us, and believe it or not, I really tried to make it work with you, but the end of our marriage was inevitable.”

Grant cleared his throat. “Now that I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do, can you do one little thing for me?” His bottom lip trembled as he struggled to control his emotions. “Let me see my daughter one last time.”

I fought against every belief I had to promise him the one thing he wanted. The thought of exposing her to any more pain made me want to rip my heart out from my chest.

I knew that there came a time to fight and a time to give in. Sitting across from my soon to be ex-husband, it was clear which one I needed to do. We could go back and forth for days, but it wouldn’t do an ounce of good.

I stood up and wiped my eyes. “I will do my best.”

“If I write her letters, will you give them to her?”

“I’ll hold on to them until she’s ready to read them.”

He nodded while staring at the ground. “Thank you.”

I needed to leave before I really broke down, so I scooped up the papers and turned to the guard and signaled that I was ready to leave.

I thought his hurt would bring me pleasure. But as I walked away without looking back, I felt sad instead of gratified.

Ending it this way hurt more than I ever could have imagined. I just stripped away his entire world to ensure my freedom and my daughter’s well-being. Having him sign away his rights to Emery was to ensure that I was in complete control of her safety and basic needs. I didn’t do it to be vindictive and I was relieved that he saw it that way. But again, it hurt like a bitch. My life would be a lot easier if I didn’t have a fucking conscience.

I walked through the revolving doors, letting the taste of freedom take over me. I tightened my scarf around my neck and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. It wasn’t until I was alone in my car that I let the sobs break free. I owed him and my previous life one big ugly cry. A few minutes to mourn. A past that I was done with. It was time to move on once and for all.

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