“But why?” he asks, staring down at his mug, confused. “Why do this now? Why care when you didn’t... when there was still time?”
I get up and walk around the island, then sit on the stool beside him, turning to face him. “Everything—everythingI ever did was about me, Ethan. I was selfish. An idiot. I made every wrong choice possible... but the worst one was taking my family for granted.”
He looks at me, anguish written plainly across his face.
“I took you, Alicia, and your mother for granted. I kept telling myself I’d fix things. That I’d make up for being gone, and later I’d repair what I was breaking.”
My fists curl tight on my thighs. “Always later. And later never came.”
He clenches his jaw, but says nothing.
“You don’t have to believe in my guilt, or my regret, or in the version of me that swears I’d do everything differently if I could go back,” I continue. “But please—neverbelieve it was because of you, your sister, or your mother.”
I open and close my hands, trying to keep them from shaking. “Never think I didn’t care. Or that I didn’t love you. Because I always, always, will.”
My voice fractures, and I have to stop for a moment.
“I loved you from the very first moment your mother and I realized we were going to be parents. I didn’t know if you would be a boy or a girl. Whether you’d look like Ceci... or like me. But I already loved you.”
Tears spill down my face. I wipe them away with the backs of my hands. “There hasn’t been a single day I didn’t love you. Not even when you pushed back... and my pride and anger blinded me to the truth, that I was the one in the wrong.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the marble island, and bury my face in my hands.
“I understand now that when I betrayed your mother, I didn’t betray only her. It wasn’t just about our marriage.” I straighten up and look at Ethan again. “I didn’t fail only as a husband. I failed as a father the moment I betrayed her. And for that... I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.”
He just sits there, tears running down his face.
“But what about before, Dad?” he asks, his voice failing. “Why weren’t you there before? Why did you choose work first... and thenher?”
I get to my feet, swiping at my own tears, and turn my back to him.
“I never thought of it as choosing,” I say, my voice rough. “Montgomery Clifford & Co. was the legacy I was building for you and Alicia.”
“Dad...” he calls. When I turn back, his eyes are glassy and focused on me.
“We just wanted you there,” he says. “When you were around, Mom smiled more. She wasn’t always waiting by her phone for a message or a call telling her you weren’t coming home again.”
He drags in a shaky breath.
“When we traveled, just the three of us, every time we did something fun, Alicia would say,‘Dad would love this.’” Hisvoice breaks. “And you weren’t there to see Mom’s face when she said it.”
He shakes his head and walks away, stopping at the other side of the kitchen.
“I tried to understand,” he adds. “I swear I did. You’re not the only father who works too much, or the only man who built something from the ground up. But I hated watching Mom and Alicia suffer. And when everything went to hell... I just couldn’t take it anymore.”
And I know exactly what he means. I know the moment he stopped looking at me with anything close to respect. The moment he couldn’t even bring himself to look at me anymore.
‘You’re not my father. Not my dad. You’re nothing to me.’
I close my eyes, but the memory doesn’t fade. If anything, it sharpens. Ethan stands in the doorway of our house. Mark just behind him. His face is a storm of pain, disgust, betrayal, and fury… all of it turned on me.
‘My dad would never. Never hurt my mom. He would never destroy our family. He would never trade us for money and easy pussy.’
‘My dad died years ago. You’re not even the shadow of that man.’
“Why didn’t you at least try to be there for us, Dad?”
The pain in Ethan’s voice pulls me back into the present, into a moment where everything I’ve ever destroyed seems to live inside his eyes.
