Chapter 5
BENNETT
The other side of the bed was cold and untouched when I woke up after managing to get another hour of sleep. I’d been checking my phone every hour in case Laina reached out. But the only message I’d gotten was a reply around midnight.
I opened our thread again, staring at the two words she’d finally sent after my twentieth text.
Laina
I’m safe.
She’d only given me that much after I pleaded with her to let me know she was okay.
My overactive imagination had come up with too many scary scenarios for what might’ve happened to her after she left our home.
Those two words hadn’t been enough to let me sleep while she was out there somewhere, devastated because of my words.
I needed to make this up to my wife, but I couldn’t do that if I didn’t know where she was.
After scrubbing my palm down my face, I tried calling her again. It went straight to voicemail, so I hung up and typed another message.
Me
Can we please talk?
I sat on the edge of the mattress, staring down at my phone as though I could will her to reply. When it stayed on delivered for five minutes, I finally gave up.
Forcing myself to stand, I headed into the bathroom to brush my teeth and take a quick shower. It didn’t wake me up much, and I desperately needed coffee. Which only made me miss Laina more because she’d normally be downstairs in the kitchen grinding beans to brew an espresso.
I had to pull up a step-by-step video online to walk myself through how to make my own cup, and it made me want to kick my ass even more.
Laina was so damn sweet and thoughtful. She’d spent every day since we met doing whatever she could to make my life easier, and I’d repaid her devotion by hurting her so much that she’d fled our home to avoid seeing me.
While I let my shot of espresso cool, I scrolled on my phone. The headlines on my feed made me cringe.
Bennett Parker’s awards speech under fire
Fans react to Sally inspiration reveal
Is the internet’s favorite sitcom character based on a real person?
The memes using Laina’s expression, frozen in that exact moment of realization, were even worse. And the comments were downright cruel.
Beyond pissed off, I locked the phone and set it face-down on the counter before I threw it against the wall. The bullshit I’d told myself last night about misunderstandings and talking this through with my wife felt ridiculous now. So much damage had been done, and it was all my fault.
Lucy came into the kitchen a few minutes later. She headed straight for the fridge like it was any other Monday, completely unaware of the damage I’d done.
“Morning.” She pulled the orange juice from the fridge and glanced at the empty stove. “Mom hasn’t made breakfast yet?”
I leaned against the counter, weighing how much to share with my daughter. She was fourteen, not a little kid, but I still didn’t want her carrying more of this than was necessary.
“Your mom’s not here. She’s taking some time to herself after last night.”
Lucy paused with the juice carton in her hand. “Oh.”
She grabbed a yogurt from the fridge and a spoon from the drawer, then sat at the island like the conversation was already over. After a couple of bites, she shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll be back soon. It wasn’t that deep.”
I set my cup down. “Don’t do that.”
She looked up, surprised. “Do what?”
“Minimize what happened to your mother.”
Lucy’s spoon froze halfway to her mouth. “It’s not a big deal. She didn’t even really say anything when I showed her the video last night.”
I stared at her. “You showed her the clip?”
“Yeah. It was already everywhere. I figured she should see it.”
I was surprised by how nonchalant she was being. “What did you say to her about it?”
Lucy shifted on the stool, suddenly less sure of herself. “I told her the way you put her on blast wasn’t cool, but that you were right.”
I dragged a hand down my face and forced myself to stay still instead of reacting the way I wanted to. Lucy had no idea what she’d done.
I pulled out the stool across from her and sat down. “Look at me.”
Heaving a deep sigh, she reluctantly did so.
“Your mother is the reason we have the life we do,” I explained.
“When I was still getting rejected left and right, she was the one working double shifts so we could keep the lights on. She believed in me when no one else did. When agents stopped returning my calls, she told me there would be a day they’d regret it.
She’s the one who gave me pep talks whenever I started questioning whether I had anything worth saying. ”
Lucy opened her mouth, but I kept going.
“Your mother left sticky notes on my laptop when I was ready to quit. She sang off-key in the kitchen just to make me laugh after another bad meeting. She never once made me feel like my dream was a burden, even when it meant she carried more of the weight than she should have. That woman supported this family long before anyone knew my name. And last night, the two people who should have protected her treated her like she deserved to be the butt of a joke.”
Lucy’s spoon clinked against the yogurt container as she dropped her gaze. “I guess I never thought about it that way.”
“But that’s gotta be how your mom took it last night.” I leaned forward. “You looked at the public humiliation the rest of the internet is laughing at, and you told her I was right. Do you understand what that must’ve done to her? On top of everything I already put on her?”
Her shoulders hunched. “I thought…I don’t know. It was just a speech. I guess I figured that she was overreacting.”
“She wasn’t.” No matter how much I wished otherwise.
Lucy’s phone buzzed on the counter, but she didn’t reach for it. Which was unheard of since the damn thing was usually glued to her hand. So I knew I’d gotten her attention.
“I love your mom’s quirks,” I added. “They were the reason I fell in love with her. How she sings off-key. Her vintage key constellations. The way she refuses to get rid of a broken appliance if she thinks it can be repaired instead. Even now, when we have plenty of money. And I fucked up by taking those private pieces of her and putting them on a stage without thinking about what it would cost her when the world started laughing. That was my failure. And then you added to it.”
Lucy’s eyes were glassy when she finally looked up. “I didn’t know it would hurt her that bad.”
“Now you do.”
She sat up straighter, her tone turning defensive. “You’re acting like this is all on me. But I’m not the one who turned her into a punchline on national television. That was you.”
“You’re right,” I agreed since there was no use in arguing the obvious. “This started with me. I own that. Every single part of it. But that doesn’t make what you did okay. You saw your mom while she was at her most vulnerable, and you piled on instead of protecting her.”
Lucy’s jaw tightened. “I was just being honest.”
“No, you were careless with someone who has shown up for you every day of your life. Something your mom would never have done to you,” I pointed out. “Remember when you got into that fight with Jessica last year over the lead role in the school play?”
“Yeah,” she whispered with a little sniffle. “Mom told me that Jessica started that rumor about me getting the part because of your industry connections because she was hurt, but that she’d back me up however I wanted to handle it. Forgive her or not, the decision was completely mine.”
“Because your mom loves you unconditionally.” I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, filled with regret. “And she deserves the same from us.”
Lucy stared at the yogurt container like it held all the answers she might need. When she finally spoke again, the edge had drained out of her voice. “I didn’t think about it like that.”
“Now you know better, so you can do better.”
Her shoulders slumped as she nodded. The bravado from a few minutes ago was long gone. In its place was something closer to shame, which I understood because I felt it deeply too.
Lucy swallowed. “Yeah.”
Relieved that she understood how much she’d hurt her mom, I stood and picked up my cup. The espresso had gone cold, so I swallowed it in one big gulp. “Finish your breakfast. I’ll drive you to school.”
Lucy ate the rest of her yogurt in silence and grabbed her backpack. The drive to school was quiet. She kept her eyes on her phone the whole way but never once unlocked it. When I pulled up to the curb, she hesitated with her hand on the door.
“If you talk to her before I do, tell Mom I’m sorry.”