Page 100 of I’m Already Gone

“You were selfish. You weren’t there for us when we needed you. I thought I was over it, learning to forgive like Mom taught us, but now that’s she’s sick?” He shakes his head, turning away from me with a huff, his hands clenching into fists on the edge of the pool. “It brings all the pain back.”

“You’re right,” I say. “I take responsibility for every mistake I’ve made and will do everything I can to correct them. I swear it.”

“I want to believe you.” He turns back to me, his eyes narrowed. “What makes this time different?”

“I’m not asking you to believe me right now,” I say. “All I ask is for a chance to show you I can be a better father and continue to support your mom, through my actions, and not only with words. I lost four years, Jake. I can’t let any more slip away.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his face revealing his internal conflict. “And if I don’t give you a chance?”

“Then I will respect that. I will do my best to earn your trust, even if you never give it to me directly. I’ll keep showing up. Even if you don’t want me to.”

We keep our gaze on one another. I hope he sees and hears the strong willingness in my voice that I will not disappoint him anymore, and that I will never walk away again.

He breaks eye contact first, letting out a heavy sigh, keeping his head down. “I forgive you, Dad. I think I already did when you shaved your head for Mom.”

My breath hitches. He looks at me, and his tense features soften. A small smile touches his lips.

“I want to trust you, but I’m scared you’ll stay for a while and then go again. I already know how to deal with you being gone once. I can’t do it again, Dad.” He looks away toward the house, his gaze distant for a moment, then adds, “But I’ll try. For Mom. For Maddy.”

And hopefully for him, I want to add but don’t say.

Turning back to me, he gives me a full, genuine smile, like the sun finally breaking through dark clouds. “And I’m sorry, Dad, for being a dick.”

I let out a shaky chuckle. “It’s okay, son.”

“No, it’s not. But like you, I promise to be better.”

And for the first time in years, I see the light at the end of the tunnel. An opportunity to rebuild the bridge and close the gap that my years of abandonment, selfishness, and pain caused.

Lily

“So, how’s it going with Ethan?” Ebony asks.

“It’s going well, I think,” I say, taking a sip of my cucumber water that Ethan insists I drink. He’s been reading up on what is helpful for patients going through chemo.

“You think?” She wipes her hands on a dish towel and raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me. “Do you know what I think?” she asks.

I smirk, leaning back against the stool. “No, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Damn right, I am,” she says with a chuckle. “I think it’s going really well. Maybe a little too well, even.”

I frown. “What do you mean by that?”

She collects the mixing bowl and a spoon, turns to the sink, and lets the water run over them. “You’re… happier, Lily.”

Tilting my head to the side, I sit for a minute, thinking about it.

Am I happier?

Ethan helps with the kids in the morning; he cleans, cooks, does the laundry, makes sure I’m taking my medication, and that I’m staying hydrated. He accompanies me to my appointments, always ensures I have all my comforts, and he shaved his head in solidarity with me.

Jake is slowly letting him back in. Maddy is eating up her daddy’s attention. And Ollie acts like Ethan is his actual father, following him around like a shadow.

An involuntary smile blooms on my lips, and my cheeks flush from the warmth of love spreading in my chest.

“See?” Ebony winks at me, pointing in my direction with the dishtowel in her hand. “You are happier. Almost as if⁠—”

“We’re married again,” I finish, the words a soft exhale.