Page 100 of If You Were Mine (After We Fall 3)
The light turned green, and I moved forward. “How?”
“I don’t know if I can tell you exactly. For me, my worst fear was becoming Dad. Failing as a father. I thought it was inevitable.”
“So how’d you get over it?”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it completely, but I stared it down. I finally talked about it at meetings and with Josie, even a little bit with you.”
I nodded, remembering our conversation on Christmas Eve.
“And I think by putting it out there, I took back some of its power over me. By admitting what I’d been scared of, I weakened its grip on my life. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah. It does.” I thought about how much better I’d felt after talking to Claire at the cabin. Maybe I just hadn’t gone deep enough to see what fears were buried there. Maybe I’d been afraid of seeming weak.
“I realized I’m my own man,” Aaron went on as I pulled into the deli parking lot. “I’m more than just the product of some shitty DNA. Yes, I’ve made mistakes, and I’ll probably continue to make them, because I’m human, but not because I’m him. I’m not my father. The past doesn’t have to repeat itself. I’m choosing not to let it—I have that power.”
I turned off the engine. “I wish I felt that way,” I said quietly.
“You can, Theo. All it takes is a hard look at yourself and some honest conversation. I’m here for you. And I bet Claire would be too, if you’d let her.”
I frowned. “I really fucked that up.”
“Hey, nobody understands fucking up better than I do. But guess what?” He was smiling when I looked over at him. “I’m sixty days sober today.”
“Are you really? That’s fucking awesome, Aaron. Congratulations.” For the first time in a week, I felt good about something.
“Thanks. Josie has to work tonight, but I’m cooking a celebration dinner for the girls after my meeting. Want to come? We can talk a little more, if you want.”
“Yeah. I’d like that.” I’d been holed up in my apartment and hadn’t seen the kids in a while. They always made me smile.
We ate lunch, although I wasn’t all that hungry and ended up throwing half my sandwich out uneaten, and went back to the job. I spent the entire afternoon thinking about what Aaron had said. I’d always blamed the family genes for all my shortcomings, but maybe it was time to take a closer look. Maybe I was doing this to myself.
Maybe I hadn’t been born to failure—maybe I was choosing it.
* * *
At Aaron’s house that night, I played with the kids, helped Aaron cook dinner (thanks to Claire, I was no longer totally clueless in the kitchen), and raised a cupcake to Aaron’s milestone. I was proud of him, and I told him so after I helped him get the kids to bed and we were cleaning up.
“Thanks,” he said, loading plates into the dishwasher.
“I mean it. You’ve come a long way, and this is the healthiest I’ve ever seen you.” I brought the girls’ princess cups over to the sink.
“It’s the best I’ve ever felt.”
I exhaled, turning one of the cups in my hand. “I’d like to feel better. I thought leaving Claire would give me some peace, but it hasn’t. I feel worse.”
Aaron nodded. “I know that feeling. When the choice you’ve made was the wrong one, and it just makes you hate yourself more.”
“Exactly.”
“It takes a strong man to admit when he’s wrong and try to make things right. Especially when it means you’ve got to face a few monsters first.”
I nodded slowly. “I’ve kept mine locked up a long time. They’re mad as fuck.”
He chuckled. “Let ’em out. Let ’em do their worst. Then tell them they don’t scare you anymore. Beat the hell out of them.” He glanced at me. “You’re strong enough. I know you are. Look at the way you were able to quit drinking. That was hard, and you did it.”
“Yeah. It was.”
“And it was the right decision.”
