Page 146 of Denim & Diamonds

“Yeah, uh, hi, Dad.”

“This is a nice surprise.” He paused. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Well, pretty much.”

“Are you home or at the office?”

“I’m actually up in Meadowbrook, visiting Brock.”

The last time I’d spoken to my dad, I’d told him I’d started seeing someone. He didn’t know about Patrick or anything else that had gone down recently, and this was definitely not the time to fill him in.

“Oh? Things between you two getting serious then?”

I didn’t have to ponder that answer. Things between Brock and me had been serious from almost the first day we met, whether I wanted to admit it or not. “Yeah, they are.”

“That’s good. I’m happy if you’re—”

I interrupted him. “I need to ask you something, Dad.”

“Anything.”

“Do you have regrets in life?”

“About hurting you,definitely.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Do you have regrets about cheating on Mom? For leaving her?”

“I didn’t leave your mom. She asked me to leave.”

“That’s semantics.”

“Maybe. But it’s an important distinction. Because if your mom could’ve forgiven me for being a terrible husband, I would never have left. She’s the love of my life, and that’s never changed—divorce and all.”

I felt a lump in my throat and swallowed. “Yet you cheated on her and hurt her anyway.”

The line went quiet for a long time. “I did a lot of things I’m not proud of, February. And over the years, I’ve asked myself many times why I would do such a stupid thing.”

“And…”

“I think I acted that way because I was immature and had low self-esteem. Feeling wanted by someone who wasn’t my wife made me feel like a man.” He blew a breath into the phone. “That’s embarrassing to say, but it’s the truth.”

“Okay…”

“Do you have any other questions?” Dad asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Do you mind if I ask you one, then?”

“I don’t know. I guess it depends on what it is.”

“What prompted this call today? Are you afraid this new guy is going to cheat?”

I sighed. “No. I think I’m just afraid of getting hurt again. The two men I counted on most left me.”

My father’s voice cracked. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, sweetheart. I wish you could find a way to forgive me. Not because I deserve it, but becauseyoudeserve to not let the hurt control your decisions anymore.”

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