She squeezed his fingers. “I never would have killed myself.”
“You sound sure. At the time, I wasn’t.”
“I’m sorry for that, my love. I never meant to make you suffer more than you already were.”
“I know.”
She wanted to say that he’d been concerned for no reason, only she knew that wasn’t true. She had sunk into a deep depression, unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. For the most part her life had been relatively easy, so she hadn’t had the skills to handle the pain of the loss. Oh, there had been a few discomforts before that. She’d never known parental love—not the way other people experienced. She’d never known her mother, and her father had been cold and distant, going through the motions of fatherhood without actually wanting to be around her. She’d bonded with her nannies, but they’d all had other families to go home to. In truth, growing up had been lonely. When she’d finally found the courage to confront her father, to ask why he couldn’t love her, she’d had to deal with his blunt and painful answer. He’d confirmed what she’d long suspected. Not that he blamed her for her mother’s death—that had been a shock—but that he refused to love her.
But she’d handled the rejection as stoically as she could. Thatfall when she’d gone away to college, she’d found a therapist she could trust and had begun the process of healing. She’d developed skills, but none of them had helped her when Cindy had changed her mind, and Ava had spiraled to a very dark place.
It had taken months for her to resurface, close to a year. And in that time, Victoria had come into their life. She had been a precious, wonderful baby, and for so long, Ava hadn’t been able to love her. Like her father, she’d gone through the motions without allowing her heart to engage.
“After my father told me why he didn’t love me, I vowed I would never be like that,” she said, knowing that with Milton it was always safe to say the quiet part out loud. “I would never hold back my heart from my children. But I did. I couldn’t love her.” She looked at him. “I didn’t want to love her. I resented her not being our other baby.”
He nodded slowly. “You weren’t ready. The timing was good for me but unfortunate for you.”
“And Victoria. Somehow she figured it out. Once I was able to open my heart, I did all the things, but they didn’t work. I failed her.” She blinked away tears. “I hurt her without meaning to.”
“She often chooses the worse interpretation of events.”
“Yes, but sometimes I genuinely do the wrong thing. Like showing Shannon the memory box. That’s unforgivable. I was so thoughtless. You were right to be angry with me. Shannon doesn’t need to know we loved her. How does that information have any meaning?”
His gaze was warm and forgiving. “I’ve always admired your ability and willingness to take responsibly for your actions. You’re the best person I know, Ava.”
“Don’t say that. I don’t deserve the words or any admiration. I love her, Milton. Victoria is my child, and I love her. But somehow we’re always at cross-purposes. I don’t know how to fix that.”
“Wait right here.”
He left the family room only to return a few minutes later with a thick stack of papers in his hand. He set them on the coffee table. She saw it was a copy of Victoria’s screenplay.
“She doesn’t want me to read this,” she said, trying to keep the pain out of her voice. “She hasn’t even told me she’s been working on this.”
“She told me, and she knows there aren’t any secrets between us. She knows you know. Not talking about it is just a game she plays.” He picked up his drink. “Remember when we were first dating and I was overwhelmed with all the screenplays I’d collected? I didn’t know which ones to produce and which ones to reject? You took a stack of them and started reading, making notes as you went. You had a great eye for talent, and you offered insightful suggestions to improve the work. I suspect you still have those skills.”
She drew back. “Bad enough that I read what she wrote. There’s no way she wants my suggestions.”
“I happen to know she’s struggling with a few things. You could help.”
“Or piss her off to the point that she never speaks to me again.”
“Trust her,” he said. “Trust the bond between you.” He tapped the screenplay. “It’s another way to get to know your daughter. What you learn might surprise you.”
“It was so bad,” Shannon said as she huddled in Aaron’s arms. “The way she looked at me. The things she said.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” He stroked her hair. “I wish I could make this better.”
“You can’t. No one can. I did this. It’s my responsibility. You told me I needed to tell her, and I said I would, but I didn’t. I took the coward’s way out, and now she’s devastated.” Shewiped her face and looked at him. “I damaged our relationship. I know she’ll eventually forgive me because she’s a good person and she loves me, but for the rest of our lives, I will have always done this to her.”
Aaron looked stricken. “Don’t say that. She’ll get over it.”
“That’s not the same as forgetting. She’ll never forget this. I know I have to start by apologizing, but I can’t even do that. She sent out an all-employee email saying she and Luis were going away for a few days and they’d be back on Monday.” She looked at him. “She just left without saying anything. She’s never done that before. I don’t know where they went or anything. I chased her away.”
“You didn’t. I’m sure Luis suggested going somewhere as a distraction. This is hard on both of you.”
“But I caused it.”
She stood up and started pacing in his small living room. “This is what’s wrong with me. I won’t do the hard thing. I put off dealing with whatever the problem is until it becomes a crisis. I ignore the issue while I still have some kind of control over the situation and then have to deal with something bigger and uglier because of that. I make it worse, not just for myself but for everyone around me.”
