Page 97 of From This Moment (After We Fall 4)
“It’s true! And now my daughter is hurting because she feels like she wanted something bad, or because she thinks she’ll never have a family, or because she thinks she’s not loved enough.” She sobbed openly. “And she thinks you and I can never love each other because it’s wrong, so if we do stay together, she’ll be even more confused, and your mother will continue to fill her head with garbage, and there isn’t anything we can do about it.”
She said if.
I took her hand again and held on tighter. “Hannah, things will be okay. We’ll get through this.”
She looked at me like I was nuts. “How? What can either of us do? The circumstances are totally beyond our control, Wes. We can’t go back and do things differently. We can’t change the past or who we are. And we can’t change her mind.”
Everything she said was true, but I refused to give up. “We can’t just unlove each other, either.”
“We might have to.”
My chest ached. “No. I’ll figure it out, Hannah. I promise.”
“Don’t.” She snatched her hand from me. “Don’t say that anymore. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Goddammit, I don’t want to lose you.” I could have put my fist through the windshield. This was so fucking unfair.
“I don’t want to lose you, either,” she said, fresh tears welling. “But I have to put my daughter first. Obviously, she feels like something is wrong or missing in her life since she doesn’t have a father, and that means I’m not doing a good enough job.”
“Yes, you are. Maybe she just wants to see you happy. Maybe it’s not so much about filling the role of her father but about wanting her mom to smile more.”
“Maybe.” She reached into her purse for a tissue and wiped her eyes and nose. “But I need a few days, okay? To think things through? Maybe we’re moving too fast. I feel like things are spinning out of control, and I need to get a handle on them, or I’m going to end up in a bad place.”
I didn’t want to be apart from her, not even for a few days, but I understood. “Of course.”
“Thanks.” She looked over at me with huge, sad eyes. “I do love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“You probably wish you didn’t.”
I reached out and took her face in my hands. “I will never wish I didn’t love you.”
“But you could have anybody. Somebody your mother would approve of.”
“But I love you.” I kissed her softly. “Remember that.”
She nodded and took a deep breath. “I should go pick up Abby now.”
“Do you want me to be there?”
“No. It’s okay. I have to be willing to look your mother in the eye, or else she’ll make the case that deep down, I don’t think this is right, either.”
I nodded. Sometimes she surprised me with her strength. “Call me later?”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry, Hannah. For whatever pain my feelings for you have caused you and Abby.”
“I’m sorry, too. I never meant to drive a wedge between you and your mother.”
“It’s her driving the wedge, not you.”
“Still. I’m a mother, too. And yours has gone through something I can’t even imagine. I try to remember that when she gets to me.”
“I’ll try as well.”
She got out of my car and quickly jumped into hers. The rain still hadn’t let up. I watched her drive off and prayed my mother would go easy on her, or better yet, say nothing at all.
