Chapter 16
The waiting was the worst part.
I sat in the car.
The rain hammered the roof.
I watched the clock on the dashboard tick.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Twenty.
Thirty.
What was she saying to him?
Was she apologizing?
Was she screaming at him?
Was she telling him she loved him?
Or was she using her last breath to plant one more seed of doubt? One more lie? One more thing to torture him with after she was gone?
I didn’t know.
And I couldn’t help him.
This was something he had to do alone.
Forty minutes.
Fifty.
An hour.
Finally, the doors opened.
David walked out.
Marcus was right behind him.
David’s head was down.
His shoulders were hunched.
He looked smaller somehow.
He got in the car.
He closed the door.
The rain was muffled again.
He didn’t look at me.
He stared straight ahead through the windshield.
“Well?” I said softly.
He didn’t answer.
“David?”
He let out a long, shaky breath.
“She apologized,” he said. His voice was raw. Rough. Like he’d been crying. “She said she was sorry. For everything. For hitting Leo. For lying. For trying to destroy us. She said she was angry. And bitter. And she took it out on everyone who loved her. She said she knew she didn’t deserve forgiveness. But she wanted to ask for it anyway.”
He paused.
He swallowed hard.
“She said she was proud of me,” he said. “That I turned out to be a better man than she ever deserved. That she was glad I chose you. Glad I chose Leo. Glad I got the family she was never strong enough to give me.”
He turned to look at me.
His face was streaked with tears.
“I forgave her,” he said. “I told her I forgave her. Not for her. For me. So I could let it go. So I could stop carrying it around. She held my hand. And then… she just… slipped away. Right there. While I was holding her hand.”
He started to cry then.
Big, heaving sobs.
I pulled him to me.
I held him while he cried.
For the mother he’d lost twice.
Once when she’d turned into a monster.
And again today, when she’d died for real.
For the little boy he’d been.
For the man he’d become.
For all the wasted years.
All the pain.
All the what-ifs.
I held him.
And I cried with him.
Because even monsters were people once.
Even monsters were loved once.
And even monsters deserved to be grieved.
Not for what they’d become.
But for what they could have been.
We sat there for a long time.
In the rain.
In the quiet.
Finally, David pulled back.
He wiped his face.
He blew his nose.
He looked at me.
And he smiled.
A real smile.
Tired.
Wet.
But free.
“It’s over,” he said. “Really over. This time, I can feel it. She’s gone. And I’m still here. And you’re here. And Leo is here. And we have our whole lives ahead of us.”
He started the car.
He put it in drive.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
We drove home.
The rain stopped.
The sun came out.
A rainbow arched over the highway.
Leo was waiting for us on the porch when we got there.
He ran to the car.
“Mommy! Daddy!” he yelled. “Guess what! Mia helped me bake cookies! Chocolate chip! Your favorite!”
David got out of the car.
He picked Leo up and spun him around.
“Chocolate chip?” he said, grinning. “Did you put extra chips in like I like?”
“Duh,” Leo said, rolling his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I watched them.
My boys.
Laughing.
Teasing.
Whole.
Healed.
The past was the past.
Helen was gone.
Her poison was gone with her.
And all that was left was love.
May you like
And family.
And a future brighter than any rainbow.
