Chapter 34
M y eyes moved across my reading tablet before it snagged and caught on a sentence that sang out to me.
Don't wait for them to ask you for details. In order for trust to be rebuilt, you must initiate the conversation. Do not leave out any details, no matter how uncomfortable or painful it may be to hear.
I hummed in approval before tapping a few buttons to highlight it as an important note I wanted to return to. I settled back in my seat and continued to read.
Sene had been right. I wasn't a fan of reading for pleasure. I couldn't sit still long enough to focus on the words. Frankie loved reading, although she didn't do it often, only on vacation when we had some downtime and were lounging at the beach or on a long-haul flight.
Now, I'd read nine books—something I would've achieved over ten years. All of them were on a specific subject—repairing relationships, building trust, and inner work. The common denominator in all these books, the one thing I'd lacked towards the end of our marriage, was honesty.
Now, the chances of me actually putting what I'd so far learned into practice with Frankie was probably zero. I was well aware that she was done with our marriage and with me. When I'd tried to broach the subject of Carly that evening in the park, she'd shot me down. I didn't know where I was going with that conversation anyway, but hearing her describe her encounter with him…Carlos—I fucking hated that I had a name for him now—had felt like a thousand tiny cuts on my skin.
She'd been lonely. Hurt. Betrayed. She'd seen me having lunch with Carly and had quizzed me about it when I'd called. I could only imagine her devastation when I'd lied to her face. And then to see me on a dinner date with Carly a few days later…I couldn't blame Frankie for what had happened. Sure, I could hate Carlos—and don't worry, I did. He'd seen Frankie's vulnerability, freshly separated, lonely and sad. Oh, I had no doubt that his flirtation and seduction had been very real. Frankie was a catch and a half and had always caught other men's eye. But that didn't mean Carlos didn't know exactly what he was doing. Still, I couldn't be mad at him completely. That blame lay solely at my feet.
I'd created the perfect storm for Frankie to fall into bed with another man. I'd stripped her of her faith in me and, most likely, her self-esteem. I didn't love her right, and I’d regret that forever. All because I was too chicken shit to tell her that I didn't want a baby. All because I decided to give my time and attention to another woman.
I didn't know why I was still reading these books, but a lot of them spoke to me on a spiritual level. It spoke to that innate shame I felt at how I treated my wife, punishing me with every word that hit home to me.
A delusional part of me held out hope for Frankie and I to have a heart-to-heart. But with Frankie now living back in Columbia and due to give birth soon, my window of us being legally connected would soon be severed. Sure, I may bump into her now and then if she and Sene stayed in touch, but those meetings would be few and far between until eventually they'd be gone.
I rubbed at my tired eyes. The one thing they didn't tell you about reading was that it was hell on the old eyes. Buying or renting a physical book took up space my small apartment didn't have, so I'd bought a secondhand reading tablet. I loved it, but since it was an older model, it didn't have the proper lighting I needed to soothe my tired vision.
My phone rang next to me, and I set my tablet aside to answer.
"Hey, man. How's it?"
"Hey, Drew." Sene's typically deep, confident voice was soft and hesitating. My stomach dropped. I instantly knew.
"She had the baby." My eyes closed, and my hand tightened on my phone. I'd expected this call but it still hurt nonetheless.
"Oh?" My voice was hoarse, strangled. "Is she okay? Is-is the baby okay?" The thought of Frankie in pain and alone had tears welling.
"Yeah, she had her two nights ago. She said she's doing really well."
"Her? It's a girl?"
"Yeah. Are you okay?"
No.
"Yeah. I'm really happy for her." And I was. But I still needed a moment to process. "Listen, I've got something on the stove; I'll call you back."
Since I rarely cooked, I was sure Sene didn't believe me. But he didn't call me out on it. "Sure, man."
I took a deep breath as sadness batted at my periphery. If I could do it all again…if I could re-do it all…her baby would be mine. I'd be with her, and we'd be a family. Now, because of my fuck ups, she was living almost two hours away with her dad; she had a baby with another man—a man who I wasn't even sure was going to step up and do the right thing.
I pulled my phone out and decided to check Frankie's social media for the first time in a long time. We were still friends on there, but I'd barely been on the site. I dreaded the day that Frankie would remove me.
I pulled up her profile, and my heart lurched.
There was a new photo. It was Frankie, gazing down at a baby in her arms. She had a bright smile on her face. Her hair was down and pulled over one shoulder; she wore a baggy t-shirt with no makeup on. Pure love shone from her. She looked beautiful.
I finally studied the tiny bundle in her arms. I couldn't see her face except for a little nose poking out of the pink and white blanket. I suddenly felt an urge to know what the baby looked like.
My eyes scoured the caption.
Welcome to this crazy world, Alani Makana Grant.
Alani was her mom's name, and Makana was her grandma. And Grant…Frankie's maiden name.
I threw my phone aside, buried my face in my hands, and screamed.
"Fuck!!!!"