42. Let Me Leave – Brad
Sleep was not my friend last night. I spent most of the time doom scrolling on my phone, reading every horrible thing the internet had to say about me. It’s a humbling experience to say the least. Needless to say, my playboy image is fully intact thanks to Sierra and Gina. If I needed anything to confirm my decision to end things with Tess was the right thing to do, that was it. She has no business getting involved with someone like me.
I drag my ass to rehearsal, as close to being fashionably late as possible, dreading seeing Tess in person, and even more so Charlie. I’m not in the mood to deal with more pain and disappointment. I have enough of my own, thanks.
When I walk in, however, there’s no Tess, but Charlie comes barreling into me for an excited hug. She chatters on about her surprise sleepover last night, and I nod and comment where I can, but all I’m feeling is anxiety. Seeing her so happy right now is killing me, because I know I’m going to have to ruin that for her. Something I’ve apparently become very good at.
When she finally talks herself out of breath, she yanks on my shirt, her wide gray eyes equally anxious. “Did you talk to Tess, Daddy? Did you tell her that you’re sorry?”
Fucking hell. I can’t do this right now.
“We’ll talk about it later baby girl, okay?” I smooth a stray lock of curly hair from her face.
“But did you guys make up?”
“I said later.” I’m trying to be firm without being an asshole. That’s the goal, right? Be an asshole to everyone but Charlie?
“Mr. Summer said that Tess is at the office today, so she won’t be here. I just wanted to see-”
“Not now, Charlotte.” It’s too harsh. Too mean. And I know it the instant I say it. I’m caught between relief and disappointment that I won’t see Tess. It’s fucked up.
Her expression melts from hopefulness to sadness, and my heart squeezes. The gazes of everyone else in the space bore into my back, obviously reacting to my harsh tone. Even over the loud music pumping through the room, everyone could probably hear me. I’m already failing at not being a dick to my own daughter, when that was the one thing I swore I wouldn’t do.
Fuck me, I can’t do anything right.
I squat down to her level, looking her in the eyes. She deserves to know the truth, but not right now. There’s a time and place for this discussion, and it’s not here at this moment.
“Sweetie, I did talk to Tess last night, and I’ll tell you all about it later. But right now, I need to get to work, okay?”
I silently pray that I can get through this fucking day without losing my shit. And without losing my daughter. She’s going to hate me when she finds out what I’ve done, but she can’t understand all of it.
Her gaze drops, and she’s chewing on a thumb nail nervously, rocking a little from foot to foot. She’s not the most patient of little girls. In fact, she normally has zero patience, and is still in an instant gratification phase. When she wants something, she wants it NOW. Waiting to talk about this is going to drive her batty until it happens, but it can’t be helped.
“Okay…” she finally says quietly, then twirls on a heel and heads back to Hayley and June in the corner.
Disaster averted. For now.
Ian comes over and pats my shoulder. “You doing alright there? You look a little completely exhausted.”
I shake my head and smirk. “A little completely? Sounds about right.”
“Well, we’ll make it a short day today. Then maybe you can get some rest and, I don’t know, change clothes?” He gives me a once over, and it’s then that I realize that I’m wearing the same shit as yesterday. I just fucking rolled out of bed and into the car to come here, not even thinking about it.
I glance down at myself, more to avoid his gaze than anything else. “Well, fuck. Yeah…that might be a good idea.”
“No worries,” Ian chuckles. “We’ll get you sorted.”
Sorted. What a polite way to say, ‘get your shit together.’ Leave it to a Brit to say that in the nicest possible way.
He’s not wrong, though. I definitely need to get fucking sorted.
I’m able to get us home after rehearsal without incident, as Charlie’s still prattling on about a joke that Hayley told earlier in the day. I’m half paying attention, and half lost in my own thoughts.
Practice was a fucking disaster. I kept missing cues, fucking up words, and just generally was a horrible mess. I couldn’t concentrate for shit. And when we got to Dakota’s new song, I nearly lost it. The words hit me differently today, they hit home. Straight in the fucking heart. I barely got through it. Nobody said anything about any of it, but I could tell from the sideways glances they were making, thoughts were being had.
I’m in the middle of flipping a grilled cheese sandwich for Charlie’s lunch when she perches herself at the kitchen table, hands knotted together like she’s about to give a speech.
Here we fucking go.
“Okay. It’s later,” she announces. All business.
I knew it. I knew we’d get here, and I’d have to do this. It’s probably best if I just come out with it. Rip it off like a bandage.
“Tess and I broke up,” I say, not looking at her, and keeping my focus on the pan on the stove, the smell of melting cheese permeating the kitchen.
Silence.
I’m forced to look over and see what Charlie’s doing, and find her sobbing quietly into her hands, her shoulders shaking violently.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. No.
I slide the pan back and shut off the burner, rushing over to Charlie and pulling her into a hug. What’s left of my heart shatters even more and turns to dust in my chest. I can’t breathe.
“Why?” she wails, looking up at me, her face red and streaked with tears. I do my best to wipe them away, but they won’t fucking stop. They won’t fucking stop.
“Baby girl, I know this hurts. Believe me, it hurts me too. But there are some things you’re just too young to understand.”
Her breath hitches, but the tears keep coming, and now confusion clouds her usually bright eyes.
“But you love her,” she says between hiccups. “And she loves you.”
“Baby—”
“No, Daddy. It’s true. And that’s all that matters.”
My chest clenches. She’s right about me. I do love Tess. I came to that realization last night. But she’s wrong that it’s the only thing that matters.
“Sometimes, loving someone isn’t enough.” And don’t I know it? I’ll never be enough. My past will always haunt me.
Her brow furrows, but the tears keep coming. “No. You two love each other, and Mom says that if two people love each other, they can do anything.”
Damn it Ren. Putting ideas like that into Charlie’s head. Just because she got her fairy tale ending with Jude, doesn’t mean the rest of us get that. I’m living proof we don’t, no matter how much I wish it were the case.
“Not always.”
“Why not? Did you even try?” The accusatory tone in her voice strikes a chord in me. A raw place that was vulnerable to the attack.
“It’s complicated. Like I said, when you’re older?—”
“Did you try, Daddy?”
The knife twists. She’s zeroed in on the heart of the matter, and all I want to do is shut down. End this conversation. Run away to another fucking country. Change my name. Anything to get out of talking about this.
My little girl is breaking this entire thing down like an expert mathematician solving an equation. And I can’t respond. I can’t find words to argue her straightforward logic. How could I when somewhere deep down, I know she’s right?
“You’re happy when you’re with Tess,” she whispers, the tears now slowing down. She’s shifted into convincing mode, and I recognize it, but open myself to it. I want to be convinced. “When you smile around Tess, you get little wrinkly lines around your eyes.” She reaches up to draw on my face with her finger. “You don’t get those with anyone else.”
“Oh, yeah?” I say. Words are still escaping me. I’ve been standing on a precipice, not afraid of falling, but of crushing someone else in the process. Tess. I don’t want to hurt her anymore.
“Yeah. And Tess gets them too. I see them.”
I scratch at my beard, considering everything. Tess’s last words to me have been echoing and bouncing around my brain since last night.
“Please don’t do this.”
It was quiet, but I fucking heard it. And I ignored it like the selfish asshole I am. And it’s plagued me ever since. After everything, she didn’t want to end things. She was willing to work through it. And I just threw it all away, trying to be a martyr or some shit. Trying to save her from me.
Who the fuck do I think I am?
Do I really think I’m the end-all be-all of men? Some noble bastard saving helpless women from themselves and their poor choices in men? If Tess thinks she can handle me and all the bullshit that comes with it, shouldn’t I respect her choice in me? Have some sort of faith that she can handle it? Who am I to question it?
“Please don’t give up, Daddy.”
I gaze into my baby girl’s eyes, seeing so much hope there that it kills me. I have to fight back my own tears, and my throat tightens, nearly choking me. I would do anything to keep that hope alive in her. I will not be the one to douse this little girl’s fire. It helps that I agree with her.
I was giving up on myself.
I don’t want to give up on Tess.
“Okay.”