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“I came to apologize for my son’s behavior. I hate that he hurt you, Soph.”
I press my lips together until my jaw aches.
How can I respond to that?
“Drew can talk for himself. Why are you really here?”
I kick off my sandals as we reach the sand and bend to pick them up. I always loved walking barefoot at the beach. There’s something therapeutic about it. I’ve spent a lot of time out here this week.
Thinking.
Planning.
Remembering.
“Okay, okay,” Henry murmurs as he walks next to me with his shoes still on. “I came because I missed you. And I want you to come home with me. I love you, Soph. Always have. We could be happy, you know that. Us and the babies.”
I stop and turn to face him. The breeze blows some strands of hair into my eyes, so I brush them away so I can see him properly.
He waits as I study him. I remember looking so hard for similarities between him and Drew when I first found out who they were to each other. I convinced myself there were likenesses there. But as more time has passed and I’ve learned about each of them, I realize that they’re as different from one another as they possibly can be.
The only thing that’s the same is they both claim to be in love with me.
But despite both believing that to be true, only one of them truly understands the meaning of the word.
“What would you do if you were told that one of the babies needed something? Like bone marrow?”
“What?” Henry laughs, his brow creasing up in confusion.
“If one of the babies was really sick and—”
Henry scoffs and his laugh dies, but I continue.
“What would be the first thing on your mind?” I press as he stares at me.
“Soph? What’s this all about? Is one of the babies sick? Which one?”
I exhale and shake my head. “It’s just hypothetical. Forget it.”
I start to walk again, tilting my head toward the sun and taking a deep, shaky breath in.
“I’ll do anything for you. Come home, I’ll prove it,” he says as he walks beside me, his eyes glued to my face.
“If I do, will you let me live my life how I choose?”
“Of course, what sort of question is that?”
“Even if that means not being with you?”
He rubs his hand along the silver stubble on his jaw as he tries to force a smile.
“You really want to be with him after what he did to you? Fuck’s sake, Soph. I thought you were smarter than that. You deserve better.”
“Better like you? You cheated too, Henry.”
“It’s not the same. I love you,” he says. “It’s a hell of a lot different than getting your dick serviced by your secretary just because you felt like getting off.”
I take a slow breath. We’re going around in circles. Henry will never be able to admit who he is or what he’s done. Not without making out he’s the hero of the story.
