Chapter 42
AUDREY
The door to my parents’ office stared at me in defiance, as if it knew I’d never walk past it. As if it could sense that I’d rather cling to the unknown forever.
Ignoring the ache in my chest, I twisted the doorknob.
Dust swirled through the air as I stepped inside—heavy layers settling over untouched manuscripts, half-empty coffee cups, and carts of unsigned books from their publisher.
Everything was frozen in time, left as if they knew they were coming back.
Tears pricked my eyes. For a split second, I almost turned around, saving this heartbreak for another day.
You’re already here, Audrey. Just keep going.
I forced myself forward. The bench where they used to let me sit between them was pushed against the wall. In its place sat a small white chair, painted with the words For our daughter, Audrey Parker.
Confused, I ran my hand across the back and stepped into their focus room—but it wasn’t how I remembered.
The shared oblong table was gone. A wall now split the space in two, each side holding a separate desk.
I went to my mother’s first and picked up a yellowed stack of papers.
Petition to Divorce.
I swallowed hard, flipping through the pages. The tears came too hot, too fast, for me to read the words.
Tucking the file under my arm, I crossed to my dad’s desk.
Empty.
I opened drawer after drawer, searching for something—anything—that could prove I was imagining this.
Nothing.
Back at my mother’s desk, I found a single DVD labeled For Audrey.
I don’t even have a DVD player…
I tore through the cabinets, hoping they’d kept one.
Nothing.
Then I spotted their laptops.
Rushing to the front room, I plugged in my mother’s, waiting as the screen flickered to life with a tired, off-key Welcome… and a password prompt.
I typed iloveAudrey—the same one she’d used for everything—and the desktop appeared, cluttered with old documents.
Sliding the DVD into the side tray, I held my breath.
A few minutes later, a small window opened—and my mother appeared. Her curly hair was piled into a messy bun, silk pajamas hanging loose on her frame. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, like she’d been crying for days.
I’d never seen her cry before.
“Hey, Audrey,” she said softly. “I record this video every few months because you’re being quite rebellious now and not really talking to me or your father, but that’s—”
She paused, forcing a smile.
“That’s par for the course of being a teenager, so I’m not offended. Anyway… I’m kind of grateful you haven’t been around the house that much, because you’d probably notice the unbearable tension between your father and me. I don’t even think we’re trying to hide it anymore.”
She took a shaky breath.
“A few years ago, he cheated on me, and I thought I forgave him—but I didn’t. Neither of us has been happy. And I… I fell for someone else. Someone I really love, Audrey. But between you and me, I think I’m going to have to let him go and move on.”
I hit pause.
I couldn’t handle this. Not tonight.
Leaving the divorce papers on the table, I slipped out of the room and shut the door.
Then I cried myself to sleep.
Morning light cut through the blinds. I checked the status of my nursing-school application—anything to ground myself—then returned to the past.
I sat in front of the laptop and pressed play.
“I don’t want to ruin something that might finally be right,” my mother said, “especially when it comes to you and the guy you swear you don’t like. I think if we were together, it would ruin that—and maybe you’d hate each other even more. I don’t know.”
She exhaled, eyes glassy.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you or betray your trust. I just hope you can forgive me someday. I love you, Audrey Parker, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. See you soon, sweet girl.”
She winked and blew a kiss before the screen went black.
I replayed it.
Again.
And again.
And again—until my reflection blurred in the dark screen, and I couldn’t tell if I was looking at her face or mine.