He hesitated because it was clear to him that she wanted something more from him, and though he had planned to give her an explanation and some kind of apology, the courage had suddenly left him. First of all, she didn’t sound like she needed an apology or an explanation. Second of all, he wasn’t used to being the one who admitted fault first, or at all, come to think of it. “Yeah, that’s pretty much all,” he said.
“OK,” she said, but she actually sounded disappointed. “Can I pick it up on Friday?”
He wondered whether he hadn’t just made the wrong decision in getting back in touch with her. Ugh, why weren’t people more straightforward with their expectations? Life would be so much easier if she’d tell him what it was she wanted to hear. Well, if she didn’t tell him, she had no right to be upset when he didn’t say it. “Sounds good,” he said coolly. “See you then.”
“See you then.”
As soon as he ended the call, Adam felt sick to his stomach about it. That hadn’t gone well at all. He sank down into his couch, feeling far worse than he had before he’d made the call. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he could hear his parents arguing in one of their many fights. He could hear his father demand to know what it was his mother wanted to hear from him. “Tell me what to say, and I’ll say it,” his father had shouted. “Whatever gets me some peace and quiet.”
His mother had responded, “If I tell you what to say, then there’s no sincerity in it, is there? It’s a script I’ve handed you. An act. I want more than an act from you.”
Of course. Adam slapped his own forehead and groaned. He was such an idiot. He realized, far too late, that his aversion to apologizing, to making himself vulnerable, came directly from his father, the man he was determined not to become. He’d fallen right into the trap of his own pride… exactly like his father.
If he was going to avoid becoming the man, especially with genetics working against him, he would have to be able to identify his father’s traits in himself. He would have to be able to pinpoint all the subconscious lessons the man had taught him before he even realized he was learning them. He would have to recognize those behaviours and cut them out surgically. And to do that, he would have to act against his own instincts, against his own pride. He would have to do something that terrified him more than almost anything else.
“OK,” he said to his own mental image of Kyra, who was staring him down, waiting for him to find his courage. “Tomorrow, before I say anything else, I’m going to tell you I’m sorry. I’m going to tell you why what I did was wrong, why I think I made the biggest mistake in letting you go, and why I should have joined you in your happiness. You deserved to have your sunshine, and I took it away from you. And if you forgive me, I’ll do everything in my power to bring it back.”
CHAPTER 18
KYRA
Kyra put down her phone and wrestled with the strange feeling of having woken up from a dream. It felt like it had been years since she had last spoken to Adam, even though it had been less than two months. Aside from the pregnancy, her life had almost gone back to some version of normal. Then he called, and the change she once welcomed and now dreaded came flooding back without any kind of a warning. What was she supposed to do?
Luckily, her instincts kicked in and she was able to put on her customer-service personality and talk to him like she couldn’t be happier that he had called. For a moment, there had been some hope that he would finally give her an explanation, maybe even an apology. But he’d quickly let her know that wasn’t a reasonable hope. Of course he hadn’t called to give her any kind of closure. He’d reopened the wound that had only begun to heal.
She supposed having a crib made by the baby’s father would be a good thing. In the future, she could tell her child all about how their father loved them enough to make this crib. It wouldbe a sweet story, without all the drama and angst that might be found in a more accurate version. This way, at least, the child would know they were loved by both parents, even if their father couldn’t necessarily be there for them.
“Who was that?” Jasmine asked from the hall. Kyra was sure she already knew based on the conversation she likely overheard, but she was asking to be more polite about it.
“Adam,” Kyra answered. “He finished a crib he’s been making and wanted to know if I could pick it up on Friday.”
“A crib?” Jasmine popped her head into the room. “No kidding! You didn’t tell me he was making a crib. Well, I guess that’s a sweet gesture. Why do you look unhappy about it?”
Kyra sighed. “Because it isn’ta cribI want from him.”
Jasmine sat at the foot of the bed and made herself comfortable in the spare room, clearly ready for a conversation. “What is it you do want from him?”
“I don’t know.” Kyra sat next to her mother and lay back on the bed. “I guess I was hoping he would treat me the way he did before. I mean, he was always distant, but I never got the impression he had anything other than respect for me. Now, I feel like… he just sees me as a walking, talking regret. He wants to see and think about me as little as possible.”
Her mom lay back next to her. “Are you sure that’s all you want from him?”
“There’s a difference between what I’d ideally want from him and what I can reasonably expect to get,” Kyra said. “I assured him I didn’t need him to be any kind of father, and I meant it.But he doesn’t have to treat me like something gross stuck to his shoe, you know?”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s not that bad. There’s probably a misunderstanding.” Jasmine rolled onto her side to face Kyra. “Listen to your mother now. I’ve been around the block a few times, and I happen to know a little something about proud men. Most of them are just scared. They don’t feel like they can let it show because they’ve been taught they have to be strong all the time. So when they get scared, and it’s too much to hide, they withdraw.”
Kyra turned onto her side and looked her mother in the eyes. “Adam doesn’t get scared. He gets angry.”
“Honey, no man who spent his free time making a crib from scratch is all that angry.”
“You don’t know him,” Kyra said.
“I don’t have to.” Jasmine held her daughter’s hand tightly. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll go pick up the crib on Friday, so you don’t have to have that confrontation. Then I’ll make sure he knows that he’s welcome to call or visit any time. Maybe I can smooth things over between the two of you by showing him that I’m going to be involved, so he doesn’t have to worry.”
Kyra shook her head. “You know I love you, Mom, and I appreciate your offer so much. But I think this is something I have to do. If I don’t talk to him, I’ll always wonder what he would have said. I’m going to go and say what I need to say and be done with it.”
“Do you need me to come with you?” Jasmine asked.
“No.” Kyra pushed herself to a sitting position, and her mom did too. “I think it’s important to do this one on my own. But thank you. I’ll say everything there is left to say and then let go. Even if all I get is closure, at least when I have this baby, things will be settled and I can focus on being the best mom I can.”
