Either way, certainty had replaced hope.
Michael was not the father.
I asked, “How is he?”
“Furious.”
I did not respond.
Monica continued.
“Dad told him not to come into the office for a few days.”
“Why?”
“He caused a scene.”
Apparently, Michael had confronted Sabrina at the company parking lot.
Richard had intervened.
Employees had seen everything.
Michael’s private fantasy had become public humiliation.
Monica sighed.
“Mom keeps asking about the girls.”
“She can call them.”
“I know.”
“She always could.”
Another silence.
Then Monica said, “We were awful to you.”
I looked through the window.
Lily and Sophie were outside with Rachel.
They were laughing.
“I’m not interested in punishment, Monica.”
“I just want the girls treated like they matter.”
“They do.”
“They always did.”
“I know that now.”
“No.”
My voice remained calm.
“You knew it before.”
“You just didn’t act like it.”
She began crying.
I let the silence remain.
Sometimes an apology should be uncomfortable.
A week later, Helen called the girls.
Then Richard called.
For the first time in years, neither conversation contained a joke about
sons.
Richard asked Lily about her science class.
Helen listened to Sophie describe a drawing for nearly fifteen minutes.
It was a start.
But starts are not the same as repair.
Repair requires repetition.
It requires showing up after the shame fades.
Michael had a harder time.
He called me late one night.
The girls were asleep.
“I ruined everything.”
I stood in the kitchen.
Rain tapped against the windows.
“I’m not going to argue with you.”
“I thought I was getting a second chance.”
“At what?”
“At having a family.”
“You had one.”
“I know.”
His voice cracked.
“I know that now.”
I leaned against the counter.
“No, Michael.”
“You know you lost one.”
“That is not the same thing as understanding why it mattered.”
He became quiet.
Then he said, “I want to come to Vancouver.”
“To see the girls?”
“Yes.”
“Then come.”
He sounded surprised.
“You’re okay with that?”
“I have never tried to keep them from you.”
“I thought you hated me.”
“I was angry.”
“That isn’t the same as wanting our daughters to lose their father.”
He arrived two weeks later.
He brought too many gifts.
Expensive headphones for Lily.
A giant dollhouse for Sophie.
Designer jackets.
A tablet.
The girls were polite.
Sophie hugged him.
Lily did not.
