Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Gabriel
This meeting would be utterly pointless.
When I’d pressed my lawyer for more detail on what my ex-wife wanted to discuss, I’d simply been told that she wanted to talk about what happened.
Well, I wasn’t interested. But I’d treat this like our monthly partners meeting: I wasn’t interested in most of those but I sat through them anyway.
Usually, I spent the time figuring out the answer to some complex tax issue that was stalling my current acquisition, or a real estate problem that had affected price on my latest disposal.
This would be no different. I would sit there, but I wouldn’t engage.
I’d insisted the meeting would be at my lawyers’ offices and in front of our respective representation. I didn’t want her to think this meeting was personal.
It was business, nothing more.
I caught the lift before the doors closed and went to press the button to the eighth floor, but it was already illuminated. I straightened and faced the doors, wondering whether a preemptive bid on the tech deal I was working on was the way to go.
The lift stopped at every floor and I stepped aside, letting people from behind me exit. On the third floor, I looked up as the doors closed and there she was.
The woman I’d stood at the altar with and vowed to love the rest of my life.
The woman I’d brought a child into the world with.
The woman who’d walked out on our family with no explanation.
“Gabriel,” she said in a whisper.
I turned back to face the doors and she stepped closer.
“You look good, Gabe.”
No one called me Gabe except her.
I hated it. When we were married, I’d thought it was intimate. Special. But all of it had just been fake. All the times she’d said she loved me. All the plans we’d made for the future. Nothing about her had been real.
“How’s Bethany?” she asked.
I wasn’t sure I could endure this meeting without burning the place to the ground.
How dare she ask about my daughter? I ignored her and focused on the numbers above the doors as they flashed four, five, six, seven—the doors opened, and I waited for her to step out.
When she didn’t, I went first and headed straight to the reception desk without looking back.
The receptionist showed me to the meeting room and my lawyer met me at the door.
We sat and waited. Gillian knew me better than to try to make small talk.
Someone knocked on the door and I stood, my eyes fixed on the blank wall in front of me as my ex and her lawyer were shown into the meeting room. I sat, not wanting to greet either of them.
“Thank you for coming, Gabriel,” Penelope said. I’d forgotten the timbre of her voice and how sweet she sounded. It was one of the first things that had attracted me to her. But she was anything but sweet.
I looked her right in the eye. “I have twenty minutes and then I have to get to another meeting.”
“Always so busy,” she said with a smile.
I didn’t reply. This wasn’t a conversation as far as I was concerned. It was a means to an end. If I sat here for twenty minutes, I’d get the divorce papers signed. It was as simple as that.
“Well, I appreciate you making time in your day for me,” she said when she realized I wasn’t going to respond.
Without warning, she stood and moved her chair around the table so we weren’t across from each other but kitty corner. What was she doing?
“I want to say I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry for not talking to you.
I’m sorry for leaving and I’m sorry for not being in contact since.
I know it must be impossible to forgive me, but I wanted you to understand that I know I was wrong, and I take full responsibility.
” She took a deep breath when she finished, seeming relieved to have it all out.
It took all my strength not to laugh. She said it as if she was expecting me to be grateful.
That I would tell her that as long as she knew it was wrong, it was fine—she could do anything she liked if only she accepted responsibility.
But I didn’t laugh. I didn’t say or do anything.
I just focused on the clock overhead and how I only had eighteen more minutes of this to endure.
“I don’t want you to think I didn’t love you,” she continued. As if I cared. “I did. And . . . still do.”
This time I couldn’t hold back my laugh. What she was saying was so ludicrous. So utterly ridiculous.
“It’s true, Gabe. I never stopped loving you. I was just scared that my life was all planned out. I was young. And bored. And tired. And I wanted to explore what else life had to offer.”
I glanced at my solicitor, wondering if we could wrap this up early. I didn’t need Penelope’s explanations. What was done was done. It didn’t matter how we had gotten to this place—we were here.
“I left because I would have turned into someone else if I’d stayed.”
I didn’t respond. But part of me wanted to. The lawyer in me wanted to rebut her arguments. We all change and grow as the years go by. I’d thought we were going to do that together. As a couple—as a family.
I glanced at the clock again. There was too much time left.
“I made a lot of mistakes,” she continued. “And I understand I hurt you. And I hurt our daughter.”
She hadn’t hurt Bethany. When Penelope left, Bethany had been too young to remember having a mother. She and I had been fine, and were still. We were a team.
“But everyone deserves a second chance. And I’m asking you to give me mine.”
My gut twisted like it was an old towel being wrung out by a heavyweight boxer. She couldn’t be serious. “You’re asking me what?” I said, almost hissing the words.
“I want my family back.” Her voice hitched at the end of the sentence. A ghost of a memory made me flinch.
I’d heard apologies like these a long time ago. Over and over, I’d heard my father ask for one more chance. And another one. And another one. Infinite fresh starts hadn’t been enough for him.
“Your family doesn’t exist,” I said simply.
What did she think? That she was going to meet me after three years and I was going to be so grateful that she’d come back, I’d welcome her with open arms?
Did she really think I was that desperate?
What could she possibly think she had to offer Bethany or me?
Nothing except disorder and broken promises.
Nothing except a cloud of expectation that it would happen again.
I didn’t want to exist in a world where every day I remembered that Bethany and I weren’t enough to make Penelope stay the first time, and that we probably wouldn’t be able to keep her from leaving again.
I wouldn’t put up with that for me, and certainly not for Bethany. My daughter deserved better. She deserved to be brought up by a parent who kept their promises and loved her enough to stay even when life got difficult.
“I know you’re a good man, Gabe. I knew Bethany was safe in your hands.”
I tried not to roll my eyes as she spoke.
“I needed to leave,” she continued. “I needed to go to understand how much I had at home.”
She had no home with me or Bethany.
“And now, I’m back and I want to be part of your lives.”
The buzzer went off on my phone and I stood. “Twenty minutes is up. I have a meeting.”
I swept out of the office, knowing that by the time I reached the lobby, Gillian would be calling.
She rang before the lift doors opened.
“She wants to see Bethany,” she said before I had a chance to say anything. “She said that if you won’t take her back, then she wants a custody arrangement.”
My lungs filled with concrete and I sucked in a breath, trying to find air. Custody? “She’s a stranger to my daughter,” I choked out. “She can’t do that, can she?”
I staggered to the door, desperate to steady my breath.
“She’s the biological mother. Of course she won’t get fifty-fifty custody at this point, but the court will allow visitation.”
After all this time, she could just waltz back into our lives and try to pick up where she left off? And just expect that we could all go back to how it was before?
“No,” I said.
“We can fight,” she replied. “But given her position, we might be better off trying to come to an agreement. You might end up with more that way, Gabriel.”
“No,” I repeated. There was no way I was letting her anywhere near Bethany.
“Think about it. We want to avoid a court battle. It’s expensive and will take you away from your daughter. In the end, you’ll have to give her something.”
I hung up. I couldn’t listen to it any longer. I needed to get home. I had to protect what was mine.