24. Audrey
— ? —
Audrey
Maryse posted in Miller’s Point Community Forum.
I’m standing at the kitchen counter, still wearing Rowan’s shirt from last night, still floating on the afterglow of what we rebuilt in that bed. And just like that, reality comes crashing back.
“Don’t,” Rowan says. He’s behind me, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his body. “Whatever it says, we don’t have to look right now.”
“Yes we do.”
I tap the notification.
The post is long. Screenshots. Dozens of them. Every message, every confession, laid out in chronological order with Maryse’s commentary threading through like poison.
I thought the women of Miller’s Point deserved to know what kind of man Rowan Callahan really is. Here are the messages he sent me over three months while his wife was at home with their daughter...
I scroll.
Rowan: You’re the only one who really sees me.
Rowan: I feel more myself with you than I have in years.
Rowan: Audrey doesn’t understand what it’s like to feel like you’re failing at everything.
That last one hits like a knife between the ribs. He’d never told me he wrote that. The full sentence, the one that was cut off when I first read his phone.
Audrey doesn’t understand.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is wrecked. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“I know.” I keep scrolling, even though every word burns. “You’ve already told me.”
The comments are worse than the messages.
Always knew he was too good-looking to be faithful.
Poor Audrey. She seemed so happy at the school fundraiser.
Men like him never change. Once a cheater, always a cheater.
Is this why their house burned down? Karma?
I close the app. My hands are shaking.
“The whole town,” I say quietly. “Every person we know. Every parent at Lily’s school. Every customer at your job sites.”
“I know.”
“They’re all reading this right now.”
“I know.”
I turn to face him. He looks like he’s aged ten years in the past five minutes - pale, hollow-eyed, braced for impact.
“We need to get Lily,” I say. “Before she hears about this from someone else.”
We’re too late.
Ruth calls at ten-fifteen to say she’s on her way with Lily, who left Emma’s playdate early after “an incident.” By the time they pull into the driveway, I’m already on the porch, heart pounding.
Lily gets out of the car slowly. She’s not crying, which is almost worse. Her face is completely blank - that careful emptiness that children learn when they’re trying to hold too much inside.
“Baby,” I say, crouching down to her level. “What happened?”
She looks at me with those green eyes - Rowan’s eyes - and her lower lip starts to tremble.
“Tommy said Daddy has a girlfriend. He said everyone’s talking about it online.” Her voice is small and confused. “He said you’re getting divorced and Daddy doesn’t love us anymore.”
Behind me, I hear Rowan make a sound like he’s been punched.
“That’s not true,” I say firmly. “None of that is true.”
“Then why did Tommy say it? Why is everyone talking about Daddy?”
I don’t know how to answer. How do you explain an emotional affair to an eight-year-old? How do you tell your child that her father made a terrible mistake without destroying her faith in him entirely?
“Can I?” Rowan’s voice is rough. He moves past me, kneels in the driveway in front of Lily. “Can I talk to her?”
I step back. This is his to handle.
“Lily.” Rowan takes her small hands in his scarred ones. “Look at me, baby girl.”
She does, reluctantly.
“A while ago, I did something wrong. I made friends with someone I shouldn’t have, and I said things to her that I should have been saying to your mom.” His voice cracks, but he keeps going. “It wasn’t a girlfriend. It wasn’t like that. But it was still wrong, and it hurt your mom very much.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Because I was scared. Because I felt bad about myself, and instead of talking to your mom about it, I talked to someone else.” He swallows hard. “It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. And I’ve spent every day since trying to make it right.”
Lily’s quiet for a moment, processing.
“Is that why you were sleeping on the couch?”
“Yes.”
“Is that why Mommy was crying all the time?”
“Yes.”
She considers this, her small face heartbreakingly serious.
“Are you still friends with the other lady?”
“No. I ended that a long time ago. I never want to talk to her again.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He squeezes her hands. “I promise on everything that matters - on you, on your mom, on our family. I will never do anything like that again.”
“What about Tommy? He said you don’t love us.”
“Tommy’s wrong.” Rowan’s voice is fierce now. “I love you more than anything in the world. I love your mom more than anything in the world. I made a mistake - a terrible, awful mistake - but that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. Not for one second.”
Lily studies his face with that too-knowing intensity she inherited from both of us.
“Mom says you’re trying to fix things.”
“I am.”
“Are you doing a good job?”
He glances back at me. I don’t know what my face is showing, but whatever it is makes something shift in his expression.
“I’m trying,” he says honestly. “Your mom’s not sure yet. And that’s okay. She gets to be unsure for as long as she needs to be.”
“But you’re not going to stop trying?”
“Never.” He pulls her into a hug, and she wraps her arms around his neck and holds on tight. “I’m never going to stop trying, baby girl. I’m never going to stop fighting for this family.”
Later, after Lily’s been settled with a movie and Ruth has been filled in on the morning’s chaos, I find Rowan on the back steps of the rental, head in his hands.
I sit beside him without speaking.
“She asked me if I was doing a good job,” he says finally. “And I didn’t know what to say.”
“You told her the truth. That matters.”
“Does it? She’s eight years old. She shouldn’t have to know any of this.” He lifts his head, and his eyes are red-rimmed. “Some kid at school told her that her dad has a girlfriend. Because of something I did. Because I couldn’t keep my failures off a goddamn Facebook page.”
“That wasn’t your fault. Maryse-”
“Maryse had ammunition because I gave it to her.” He stands abruptly, pacing. “Everything she posted, I wrote. Every word that’s hurting Lily right now came from me.”
I don’t argue. He’s not wrong.
“What do we do?” I ask instead.
“I don’t know.” He stops pacing, turns to face me. “I know what I want to do. I want to track Maryse down and scream at her until she takes it all down. I want to make everyone in this town forget they ever read those messages. I want to undo everything I did.”
“You can’t.”
“I know.” His shoulders slump. “So instead, I stay. I show up. I prove to Lily - and to you - that I’m not the man in those texts anymore.”
“Even with everyone watching?”
“Especially with everyone watching.” He moves toward me, stops just short of touching. “Let them see. Let them judge. I don’t care what Miller’s Point thinks of me. I only care what you and Lily think.”
I look up at him - this man I’ve loved and hated and loved again. This man who broke my heart and is still, somehow, the only one I trust to put it back together.
“Lily thinks you’re trying,” I say.
“And you?”
I reach for his hand, lace my fingers through his scarred ones.
“I think you’re trying too.”
It’s not absolution. But the way he breathes out, the way his grip tightens on my hand - I know it’s enough. For now, it’s enough.