Page 26 of The Atonement
That seemed to surprise him. His eyes darted to meet mine. “Huh?”
“Youshouldblame me, Dylan. That’s exactly my point. Everything that’s happened…it’s because of me.”
His hands went to his sides and he pushed himself up slightly, adjusting in his seat. “I don’t understand.”
“Dylan, sweetheart, marriage is…complicated, okay? But the truth is, if we wanted to stay together, your father and I, I’m sure we could.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”
“We could stay together and work through our problems and be a family for you kids. And, for a long time, that’s what I wanted.” I closed my eyes, looking down. “That’s all I wanted. But we tried. We fought for our marriage. Because we love each other and because we love you.”
“But if you love each other—”
“There are some things that love can’t fix. I didn’t want to admit that, even to myself, because I like to think I can fix anything.” I smiled, hoping to get even a hint of a grin from him, but it didn’t work. “But no matter what we did, we just couldn’t get it right between the two of us. And then I started to think…what if you, or your brother or your sister, were in a marriage like this? What if you weren’t happy?” I cocked my head to the side, willing him to understand. “And the truth is…if any of you came to me and told me you felt the way I feel… I’d tell you to walk away, to burn it all down, and to do whatever it takes to make yourself happy.”
“So that’s what this is? Consequences be damned?”
I winced at his harsh language, but fought the urge to chide him. “No. It’s not about that. The truth is, even though I know I can be happier outside of this marriage, I would stay for you guys. I would stay to keep you happy and healthy and feeling whole.”
“So do that.” He unfolded and refolded his arms, a glint of hope in his eyes.
“But…if I did that I would be showing you three that your own happiness doesn’t matter. And then, if you ever came to me in a similar situation, I’d be a hypocrite to tell you to leave. As much as it sucks, bud, I have to lead by example. Because I want you all to have an idea of what a whole, happy person is supposed to look like. And, maybe you can’t understand that. Maybe it’s selfish of me to ask you to. I don’t know. I’m still figuring all of this out right along with you. What I do know, though, is that I want to teach you all that you are whole people completely on your own, and that you should never stay in a situation where you don’t feel loved and respected. And that isn’t meant to speak ill of your dad. He is a good person and a good father, and he loves you all so much. But our marriage is not one I would want for you guys, and that tells me all I need to know.”
I paused, hoping he’d say something—anything—to let me know he understood, but he was silent, staring at me as if I were a stranger. “I understand that it’s a lot to take in. And I understand if you can’t…forgive me or look atme right now. These next few days, weeks, and months are going to be rough on us all. But I’ll be here if you have any questions.”
He lifted his chin slightly, a challenge. “Can I go live with Dad?”
I swallowed, fighting back tears. “If that’s what you want, we—”
“It is.”
I stood. This was not about me. This was about him. I couldn’t cry. He didn’t deserve to see me cry. His feelings were valid.
“Okay, then. I’ll, um, I’ll see what I can do.” I turned before the first tear fell and walked from the room with a slow, confident pace.
I thought no one could ever hurt me like Peter had.
I’d been wrong.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
PETER
“Gin and tonic.” I slapped a hand on the bar, debit card pinned between two fingers when the bartender finally turned to face me. Might as well use up the rest of the money before Ainsley stole that too.
“Sure thing, hon,” she said, flicking her dark, curly hair over her shoulder so I had a clear view of the low-cut shirt she was wearing.
I waited for the familiar tingle of excitement to spread through my core, but to my surprise, nothing happened. I felt nothing at all.
She slid the drink to me, taking the card and handing me a receipt to sign moments later. When I turned away from the bar, a woman with long, red hair stood behind me. I did a double take at the sight of her, convinced, if only for a second, that it was Ainsley standing there.
To my disappointment, the girl was years younger than my wife, and the red of her hair was too bright—toofake. I hated her in an instant, as if she’d come there just to torment me. Just to remind me Ainsley was gone.
I shoved past her, my arm colliding with her shoulder with extra force.
“Hey, excuse you!” she shouted, spinning around as if ready to start a fight.
Her fire amused me.
