Chapter 8 - THE CHILD WHO ASKED THE WRONG QUESTION
Oliver asked the question at breakfast.
“Mommy, why doesn't Daddy live with us?”
I nearly dropped my coffee.
He sat across from me wearing dinosaur pajamas.
Captain Pickles rested beside his cereal bowl.
I took a breath.
“Because Daddy and I don't live together anymore.”
Oliver frowned.
“Did he do something bad?”
My throat tightened.
I looked at my son.
Then answered carefully.
“Daddy made some mistakes.”
Oliver considered this.
“Like when I broke the lamp?”
I smiled sadly.
“Something like that.”
He looked down.
“Did he say sorry?”
I swallowed.
“Yes.”
Oliver nodded.
“Then maybe he can help fix it.”
My eyes filled.
Oh, sweetheart.
If only life were that simple.
That afternoon, Alexander took Oliver to a park.
I watched from a bench.
They played soccer.
Oliver missed the ball repeatedly.
Alexander pretended not to notice.
Then Oliver scored.
Alexander threw both arms into the air.
“Goal!”
My son shrieked with laughter.
For a moment, I saw a future I had once dreamed about.
A father.
A mother.
A child.
A family.
Then I remembered the anniversary dinner.
And the dream shattered again.
When Alexander brought Oliver back, he looked at me.
“Claire.”
I waited.
He swallowed.
“I know I can't ask you to forgive me.”
I nodded.
“Good.”
He smiled sadly.
“But I want to be his father.”
I looked at Oliver.
Then back at Alexander.
“You can.”
His eyes filled.
I continued.
“But that doesn't mean you get me back.”
Alexander nodded.
May you like
“I understand.”
And for the first time, I believed he might.
