Chapter 23 #2
The emotion in her voice is real. I’ve known Victoria for over a decade.
I know what she sounds like when she’s performing, when she’s saying what she thinks people want to hear, when she’s manipulating a situation to get what she wants.
This isn’t that. This is genuine. This is Victoria stripped of her usual armor.
“I’ve been seriously thinking about moving back to the area,” she says, and the words land like a weight in the quiet restaurant.
“Not just visiting more. Actually relocating. Being closer to Chloe. Being a real presence in her life instead of the mom who shows up twice a month when it’s convenient and then disappears again. ”
I feel multiple things at once, a complicated tangle of reactions I can’t quite sort through.
Part of me wants to believe her, wants to think it could be genuinely good for Chloe if Victoria actually follows through on this.
Chloe deserves a mother who shows up. A mother who’s consistent.
A mother who makes her feel wanted and valued and loved.
But I’ve been here before. I’ve watched Victoria make promises and break them, get excited about being more involved and then fade back into her Seattle life when the novelty wears off or something shinier catches her attention.
I’ve cleaned up too many messes, comforted Chloe through too many disappointments, to take any of this at face value.
“Chloe would love that,” I say carefully. “But you’ve been pretty absent, Victoria. For years. I can’t get her hopes up unless this is something that’s actually going to happen. Unless you’re really committed to following through.”
“I know,” Victoria says, nodding. “I know. That’s fair. That’s more than fair.”
“What does Derek think about all this?” I ask. Derek. Her husband. The man she left me for. The man with the money and the lifestyle and the complete disinterest in our child.
She chokes out a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Derek and I aren’t exactly talking much these days,” she says, her voice flat. “I’m thinking of leaving him, actually.”
I’m surprised, but only a little. That relationship was built on a foundation of cheating, and Victoria’s desire for someone more successful than the struggling restaurant owner she’d married too young.
And Derek has always hated that Victoria was a mother.
He made it clear from the start that Chloe was an inconvenience, a complication in the sophisticated life he wanted with Victoria.
And Victoria let him feel that way. Let him push Chloe to the margins of her life.
I’ve hated him for years. Hated what he represented. Hated what Victoria chose when she chose him. Hated that my daughter had to spend time in a house where she clearly wasn’t wanted, where she felt like an afterthought.
“Well,” I say, “I’d say I’m sorry to hear that, but I’ve never liked him being around Chloe. Can’t pretend I’m heartbroken about it.”
Victoria laughs, a wet sound, wiping another tear from her cheek. “That’s fair. He was never good with her. I let that happen. I let a lot of things happen that I shouldn’t have.” She takes a shaky breath. “I made so many mistakes, Theo. With her. With you. With everything.”
She looks at me directly, her eyes red-rimmed but clear.
“I’m sorry for what I did to you,” she says.
“The affair. The way I left. How I made you feel like the failure in our marriage when really it was me running from responsibility. Running from adulthood. Running from anything that required me to be selfless.” She shakes her head slowly, something bitter in her expression.
“I can see now what you’ve built. This restaurant.
This life. How well you’ve raised Chloe, almost completely on your own.
The man you’ve become.” Her voice drops.
“I threw that away. I threw us away. And I regret it more than I can say.”
She pauses, and when she speaks again, her voice is a whisper. “Turns out the grass wasn’t greener on the other side. Not by a long shot.”
This is the first apology I’ve ever gotten from her for the affair.
For years I wondered if she even felt bad about it, if she ever looked back and wished she’d made different choices.
If she ever lay awake at night replaying the moment she told me she was leaving, the way my world crumbled around me while our daughter slept in the next room.
Apparently she does. Apparently she has for a while.
“I’m not going to say what you did was right,” I tell her honestly.
“But I wasn’t the best husband at the time either.
I know I was gone too much. I was so focused on building a future for us that I wasn’t present for the present.
” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “I think I forgave you for the affair a long time ago. It’s not in my nature to hold a grudge.
But I can’t let go of what you did to Chloe.
Leaving her the way you did. Making her feel like she wasn’t enough to make you stay. ”
Victoria nods, her jaw tight. “I won’t ever forgive myself for that either,” she says quietly. “But I want to try to change. I want to be better. For her. I want to be the mother she deserves, even if it’s years too late.”
I feel some of the tension in my shoulders ease. This is what I’ve wanted for years. Not for myself—I’ve made my peace with what happened between Victoria and me—but for Chloe. For her to have a mother who actually shows up, who prioritizes her, who makes her feel like she matters.
“That would be good,” I say. “She still needs her mom. She always has.”
Victoria looks at me for a long moment, and something in her expression shifts, becomes more contemplative. “You look different than you did a few years ago,” she says. “Happy. Settled. Content in a way you never were when we were together. Even before everything fell apart.”
“I’m in a good place,” I admit. “Better than I’ve been in a long time.”
“It shows.” She reaches across the bar and touches my arm, her hand warm against my sleeve. The touch is brief, almost tentative. “I’m glad you found Emma. That you have someone who appreciates you the way you deserve. Someone who sees what I was too blind to see.”
The touch is apologetic, but there’s something else underneath it too.
Something wistful. Nostalgic. Like she’s mourning a version of us that never existed, a future we might have had if everything had been different.
If she had been different. If I had been different.
If we’d been able to grow together instead of apart.
I don’t pull away, but I don’t lean into it either.
I just let her hand rest there for a moment while I process everything she’s said.
“I appreciate you being honest about all this,” I tell her.
“The regrets, wanting to change. But words are easy, Vic. What matters for Chloe is actually following through. Being consistent. Not making promises you can’t keep and then breaking her heart all over again. ”
“I know,” she says, nodding. “That’s exactly why moving back is such a serious consideration.
I can’t do this halfway anymore. Either I commit to being Chloe’s mom for real, being present and reliable and actually there for her, or I need to step back completely.
The in-between isn’t fair to her. It never was. ”
We sit there for a moment in the quiet restaurant. I want to believe her. I want to hope that she’s capable of becoming the mother Chloe deserves. But I’ve been disappointed too many times to trust it completely.
All I can do is wait and see if her actions match her words.
Victoria’s looking at me with something in her expression I can’t quite name. She squeezes my arm gently, and something in her eyes looks almost hopeful. Like maybe she believes she can actually do this. Like maybe she’s finally ready to be the mother she should have been all along.
“Thank you for listening,” she says softly. “For not just shutting me down. For giving me a chance to explain.”
“I want what’s best for Chloe,” I tell her. “If you’re serious about this, about being more present, then I’m not going to stand in the way of that. But I mean it, Victoria. Don’t make promises to her that you can’t keep. She’s been hurt enough.”
“I am serious,” she says. “More serious than I’ve been about anything in a long time. I’m going to prove it to you. To her.”
The moment hangs between us, loaded with history and regret and possibility. Victoria’s hand is still on my arm. The restaurant is silent around us, holding its breath.
And all I can think about is Emma. About getting home to her. About telling her everything and letting her help me figure out how to navigate this new development. About building the future I actually want instead of dwelling on the past that almost broke me.