I shake my head. I don’t know how to put it into words without sounding mad. She likely already thinks I’m crazy, given what just happened, but it’s not her prerogative to sift through everything and help me make sense of it. No, it’s better for all of us if we just leave this behind right here and now, and forget that we got involved in the first place.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat again.
There aren’t enough apologies for what I have done to her. Not just leading her on, letting her believe that there might be a chance for a real relationship between us, but knowing that it was my son who caused her this hurt in the first place. If I had kept a closer eye on him, if I had stayed in touch with him more, then maybe he would never have had the space to abuse her the way he did.
It only took one look at her this morning, at her expression when she heard him banging on the door, to tell me just how much trauma she already lives with, and to think that I could have done something to ease some of that for her…
I move to the door, and she goes after me, her eyes starting to grow glassy with tears.
“Martin, please, we can talk about this?—”
“There’s nothing for us to talk about.”
I can’t give her an inch. If I do, I might change my mind about leaving, and I know I would never be able to forgive myself. Ican feel the knife pressing against my leg through my pocket, a reminder of what Thomas would have done if he had gotten access to her and the twins. My stomach knots at the thought. Of what he could have done.Wouldhave done, given the chance.
“Any help you need from me with him, just ask,” I tell her, a hand on the door. “But us, this…” I gesture between us. “It’s not right, Lila. I can see that now.”
“Martin—”
She calls after me one last time before I force myself to open the door and step out into the corridor outside. My hands are clammy and my legs feel weak, but I keep going. I can’t turn back now. I have to lay down the law, put some sense into all of this mess, even if it feels like I will never be able to make sense of anything ever again.
My son’s ex.
The mother of my children.
I don’t even want to think what Martha will think of me after this. If she would have judged me for getting involved with a younger woman at the best of times, I don’t even want to imagine what kind of disdain she will have for me getting Lila, of all people, pregnant.
But I know one thing for sure. It’s nothing compared to the disdain I have for myself right now. I doubt that anything anyone can throw at me will even come close to the hatred that’s entirely aimed inward in this moment.
21
LILA
Sofia sits there for a moment,Ross on her lap, staring at me like she can’t believe a word that has just come out of my mouth.
I chew my lip, willing her to say something. Not that I thought she would take this well, exactly. I mean, I can’t say I would have a clue what to say if she came to me with a similar story, and this is more of a mess than I can even sift through myself.
“You…you got pregnant by Thom’s father?”
I nod. Hearing her say it out loud feels ridiculous, some kind of parody of real life. Matty coos in my lap, reaching up to grab the top of my shirt and yank it down so she can access her dinner. I gently pull her fingers loose, absentmindedly running a hand through her hair.
“I know how it sounds…”
“It sounds fucking crazy!” she exclaims, and she clamps her hands over Ross’s ears without thinking, to protect him from the cursing. “Did you…I mean, did you have any idea when it happened that it was like that? At all?”
“No, of course not!” I exclaim. “I would never have hooked up with him if I had known that he was…you know…”
I stare out of the window for a moment, trying to convince myself that I’m telling the truth. Because as much as I want to believe that I would never have chosen to get myself into this situation, I’m not sure anything could have been done the night that Martin and I met to keep me from being with him. It was like the universe had conspired to put us in the same place at the same time, to bring us together like we were always meant to be, and now…
Now, he seems to want nothing to do with me. It’s been two days since the confrontation with Thom at my apartment, which still doesn’t feel entirely real, if I’m being honest. I keep going over and over it in my head, running through the conversation as if I’ll find something new if I look hard enough or long enough. But there’s nothing, nothing that could bring him back, nothing that can undo the pain that’s been sitting like a lead weight inside my chest ever since.
“I see why you didn’t want to tell me in the first place,” Sofia muses, as she wraps her arms around Ross and hugs him tight. “I don’t know if I would even have been able to keep up with it all, if you had told me just like that…”
“I had no idea when I saw him at the hospital,” I confess. “I didn’t know until he did. But I thought…God, I don’t know what I thought.”
That’s not entirely true. Now that I’ve told Sofia the whole story, the pieces are starting to slot into place in my heart and in my head, about just why I miss Martin so badly.
At first, I tried to convince myself that he had done the right thing, leaving the way he did. Because the kind of mess that we’ve managed to make isn’t the sort that you can just overlook and hope for the best.
