THANKSGIVING LAST YEAR
There’s many ways I’ve imagined waking up in the morning. Sitting on the deck, coffee in hand as the sun rises over my land. Or opening my eyes to glance at the clock finding I slept until midday, completely exhausted after winning a big game the night before. Hell, I’ve even dreamed of waking up with a beautiful woman in my arms a time or two.
However, waking up to a tiny foot kicking me in the balls is one way I can say I’ve never wished for myself. Unfortunately for me, that’s exactly what has me groaning and rolling over to see it’s not even 6 a.m. yet.
Looking over my shoulder, I can’t help but smile at the scene before me. My angelic four-year-old daughter, Sophia, is stretched out diagonally across my king-size bed, sleeping peacefully, completely oblivious to the fact that she may have just guaranteed she’ll never have a sibling in her life.
As quietly as I can, I slip out from under the covers, grab my phone, and limp my way into the master bathroom. Splashing some cold water onto my face, I try to recover from the assault that took place three minutes ago.
Once I finally find my bearings, I swipe up on my phone to see what I missed while in Do Not Disturb mode last night: half a dozen DMs from thirsty girls on Instagram that I have no interest in, a few hilarious texts from the boys in our team group chat. But still not a word from Sophia’s mother.
Five years ago, I was a dumb jock in my twenties, thinking I was hot shit because I could score goals in the NHL. With not a care in the world, I’d go out after a game and take home a new piece of arm candy every chance I could get.
All of that changed the day Sophia’s mom showed up on my doorstep telling me she was pregnant.
Claire is a beautiful woman. Tall, with caramel colored hair that falls across her back in beautiful waves, hazel eyes that could bring a man to his knees. But that day, those beautiful eyes held more than joy and mischief. She looked scared. Petrified. As soon as she broke down crying and handed me the test, I pulled her into my arms. We spent the morning talking about our options, and I promised I’d be there to support her with whatever she decided. Claire comes from a very affluent and religious family, so she was adamant about wanting the baby. We decided we would keep and raise the baby together.
We did our best to make things work. I stopped going out after games and devoted myself to Claire and the baby. We were good together. She made me laugh. I made her feel like she was one in a million. Because she was. She was carrying my child. It’s absolutely miraculous what a woman and her body can do to bring new life into this world. I treasured Claire. And little by little, I even found myself falling for her.
The day Sophia was born was the first day of the rest of my life. She had her mother’s beautiful hazel eyes, a full head of blonde hair that matched my own, and the cutest little fingers that wrapped around mine like they were meant to hold on forever. I made a promise to Sophia that day that shecould hold onto me as long as she needed, that I would never leave her side and I’d be there for her until my very last breath.
Claire made the same promises that day. We ended up getting married a few months later. Everything was perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
Sophia is my reason for everything. Every time I lace up my skates, I think of her and her future dreams. Back then, I’d work hard, come home, and take care of her so Claire could get some alone time.
Claire slipped away from us before I even realized it was happening. She started getting busy with her own dreams of becoming a singer. Don’t get me wrong, Claire has a beautiful voice, and I supported her every step of the way.
It wasn’t until I came home to find Sophia in an hours-old, soiled diaper in her crib while Claire was locked in the recording studio I built for her, that I realized we’d become second-fiddle to Claire and her dreams.
I did everything I could to try to make it work. We’d barely been married a year, and everything was already falling apart. I hired a nanny so Claire could focus on her singing, hoping that would create a more positive environment for all of us.
It was a day before Sophia’s first birthday when Claire took off without warning for the first time. No note. No text. Nothing. I was sick with worry, calling the police and hospitals trying to locate her. Calls to her family proved less than helpful, they hadn’t heard from her either. An entire day went by where I assumed the worst. Something bad must’ve happened. Sophia’s mom was gone with no trace.
And then Claire posted a photo of herself on Instagram saying she had her first gig in Nashville.
The minute I saw that photo, I was at war with my emotions. How could a mother leave her child a day beforetheir first birthday and not even say goodbye? But also, the traitorous part of my heart wasproudof her. She was Sophia’s mom and I always wanted her dreams to come true. But not like this. Not at the expense of our family. Not at the expense of Sophia.
She came home from that trip and swore she’d never leave again without warning. The next time she left was a month later. But at least she left a note that time.
Six months of random disappearing with my heart breaking each time she would up and leave. I was devastated, not only for my daughter, but for myself too. I thought I had it all. I was doing everything I could to make my family happy. How could I fail to keep my wife content? To the point where she’d rather leave than try and make it work. Six months was all I could handle before I handed her the divorce papers. Claire’s selfishness destroyed our family.
I deserved better.Sophiadeserved better. No, Sophia deserved the world.
Claire signed the papers immediately and even asked for me to take Sophia full time. It broke my heart. Not for me, but for my beautiful daughter who would never know the unconditional love of a mother.
It’s been nearly four years since our divorce, but time doesn’t make the sting of her leaving hurt any less, especially on days like today.
Which is why I’m furious with myself for being upset over the fact that Sophia’s mom took off again without a word. I should be used to the fact that I don’t have a missed call or text waiting for me this morning. But today is Thanksgiving. Claire may be an absentee mom who pops in when it’s convenient for her, but she has never missed a holiday.
I do a quick perusal of Claire’s social media accounts and don’t see any recent videos or photos uploaded that may be a clue as to where she is.
“Goddamn it!” I growl in frustration before flipping my phone over next to the sink. Gripping the counter as tight as I can, I take a deep breath to try to calm the anger that threatens to rise up.
“Daddy?” a soft voice whispers behind me.
Turning around, I see Sophia propped up on my pillow now, with her lion stuffie cradled close to her chest, her worried eyes staring back at me.
