Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
GAbrIEL
Six Months Ago
Watching my daughter’s disappointed eyes glint with unshed tears as she catches her father cheating on her mother, I know things will never be the same again.
I can’t believe I let it come to this. That it took being caught for me to wake up and see what a complete idiot I’ve been.
When Judy finds out, she will never forgive me. Not only for cheating on her, but for being unfaithful with Scarlett, her best friend. I made a terrible mistake.
Despite what I did, despite stepping out on my marriage, I love my wife more than anything. I cannot imagine a life without her.
The thing is, there’s a pulsing ache inside me that only quiets when someone needs me. It started the day I pushed Luke off that roof.
I’m a murderer, and I’ll live with that sin for the rest of my life. It will eat at me until my dying breath.
I wish I could press a button and go back. I should have let Luke take Sally, my ex, to the prom. He didn’t have to die for it.
After his death, my parents made me promise never to talk about it. They stopped me every time I came close to turning myself in. They told me I’d destroy my future and ruin them. Maybe even send them to prison for what they did to protect me.
So I lived the lie, we all did. We pretended it never happened.
But that day never left me. It stayed vivid and sharp in my mind, along with the fear that one day someone would find out. I never allowed myself to think about what would happen then.
Helping others became my way out. In the courtroom or outside it. It was the only way I knew how to atone for my crime without destroying myself.
I think that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with Judy. She was broken, and I wanted to fix her.
From the outside, she seemed confident, self-assured. But I noticed the details. The slight hunch in her shoulders. The way she barely lifted her feet when she walked. Small signs of uncertainty.
And when I looked into her eyes, I saw the shards of a broken past she never liked to talk about.
All she told me was that she was adopted by Jane Ellis, who had been in her early fifties at the time.
She mentioned it almost too casually on our first date, lying beside me on a picnic blanket at an open-air cinema, after our first kiss.
It was like she wanted to get it out of the way early so we could move on.
She said she couldn’t have wished for a better mother. But when I asked about who she was before the adoption, I felt her pull away. Just slightly. Enough for me to notice.
She did know her biological parents. But she didn’t want to talk about them. She preferred the present and the future, not the past.
That wall never came down. Not during our years-long relationship. Not after I proposed.
But it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she needed me. Needed me to help her stand straighter, to erase the pain she carried.
When I slid the ring onto her finger, I promised her that. Even without words. What I didn’t expect was what came after.
During the first two years of our marriage, I watched Judy bloom. She grew stronger. More confident. Opening her own practice made her feel totally fulfilled.
Watching her thrive filled me with both awe and resentment. My wife didn’t need me anymore.
I guess subconsciously, I started looking for someone else to fix.
When Scarlett walked into my office needing help with her divorce, I never imagined where it would lead. I gave her legal advice. When she cried, I comforted her.
And I found that I enjoyed it a lot more than I should.
Soon I was thinking about her long after our meetings ended. Even lying beside my sleeping wife, I thought about how Scarlett fit into my arms. How she leaned into me, trusting me to hold her together.
I began scheduling unnecessary meetings just to see her more often. Seeing her occasionally at our house wasn’t enough.
Then it happened. The night Judy went away on that business trip. Sadie was sick. Scarlett showed up with chicken soup and games to cheer her up.
After Sadie went to bed, I shared with Scarlett a piece of good news about her divorce settlement. I didn’t plan what happened next, didn’t expect it.
One moment we were talking. The next, we were in each other’s arms.
A line was crossed, and I couldn’t uncross it. Even when I wanted to. Worst of all, I couldn’t stop. In the weeks and months that followed, I gave Scarlett more of myself than I gave my wife, emotionally and physically.
I thought I’d end it before Judy ever found out.
I never imagined it would be Sadie who discovered our secret.
Now she’s running. Trying to hide her pain. My daughter will never look at me the same way.
Every time she sees me, she’ll see a cheating father who hurt her mother in the worst way possible. If this ends in divorce, she’ll know I’m to blame. Judy will never stay with me after this.
Once, four months after I proposed, Judy told me something that faded from my mind afterwards, but the words are now coming back to haunt me.
“I can handle anything, Gabriel. But I will never handle infidelity.”
I promised her I’d never hurt her that way. Now here we are.
I need to find Sadie, to stop her from going straight to Judy. If it comes down to it, I want to be the one to tell my wife what I did.
As I run after my daughter, I think of Judy asleep in our bed, unaware that I slipped out to see another woman. Her best friend, of all people.
I thought I’d be back before she found out I wasn’t in the apartment. Maybe I can still make it. I just have to talk to Sadie first. I can’t leave her like this.
But she’s faster than I am, her feet kicking up sand as she runs along the shoreline now. I don’t stop, even when my legs and lungs burn with exertion.
Ahead, a bonfire glows. The other kids are still celebrating.
Sadie slips past unnoticed, staying close to the water. I do the same.
We’re on camp property now. I know I’m not supposed to be here, but I can’t find it in me to care.
At one point, Sadie looks back at me and stumbles, catching herself just in time. She keeps going. Then we reach a wooden structure that juts out over the water. She runs onto it and I follow, my heart pounding.
She stops and turns to face me, fists clenched at her sides, her anger burning me even from a distance.
“How could you do this to Mom?” she cries out. “And with Aunty Scarlett?”
I notice movement at the edge of my vision, someone approaching. I don’t look away from my daughter.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It was a mistake. It will never—”
“How long?” she asks. “Does Mom know?”
I shake my head. “Please don’t tell her. Not yet. At least not until after the holiday.”
She juts out her chin in defiance. “Don’t worry. I’m not going home with you. I’m staying here, at the camp.”
My breath catches as she backs toward the edge. “Sadie, stop.” I take a few steps toward her.
“I hate my life,” she cries. “Mom treats me like a baby, and you’re always angry at me, or never there. Too busy with Aunty Scarlett.”
I force myself to stay still, trying not to reel from the blow she just dealt me. “This is a camp, Sadie. People don’t stay here forever.”
“Yes, I can,” she shouts. “Some kids from unsuitable homes are allowed to stay as long as they want. They’ll let me.” She steps back again.
I rush forward, panic flooding me as tears come. “I love you, Sadie. I love you so much and I’m sorry for everything.”
“I hate you,” she screams, and her entire body stiffens with rage. She’s crying openly now. Her sobs are a knife driving right into my chest.
Until now, I’ve only heard her say that to Judy, often from behind her locked bedroom door. I usually told Judy she’s just a child and she does not mean it. But whether she meant it or not, those words cut deep.
“Don’t say that, baby. I know you’re upset, but you don’t mean it.” I reach out to touch her, to pull her to me, to hold her in my arms and reassure her.
I want to promise her that everything is going to be okay, that I’m going to make it all better, that I will fix what I broke.
For a sixteen-year-old, she’s quite strong. Just as my arms are about to close around her shoulders, she plants her hands on my chest and shoves hard. When I try again, she attempts to bite me.
“Go away. Leave me alone!” She jerks away from me, stumbles, and falls backward.
Her head strikes the wooden plank with a sickening crack.