Bishop sat back as if he’d been slapped, his back rigid. “I need to take a walk,” he said, clearing his throat as he stood. Before I could stop him, he was gone down the hill and out of sight.
Athena moaned, shaking her head on the chair. “I screwed up, didn’t I?”
I leaned back on the seat and sighed. Bishop was a big boy, and he just needed time. I’d give it to him. “No, you didn’t screw up. You were honest. Honesty hurts sometimes. I’ve learned that over the last few months being married to your dad. What you just said freed him of a lot of shit he’s carried around for years. I’ve tried to tell him the same things, but it’s going to be harder to ignore coming from you. Your absolution of the crime he thinks he committed now requires him to end the sentence he gave himself. He can’t claim his decision that day was a failure. He didn’t fail. You’re a bright, beautiful, sweet soul who doesn’t blame him for what happened. He’s going to struggle with making that change in his mindset. He will get there, though. I promise.”
“I hope so,” she whispered with her eyes on the fire. “I don’t want it to mess up your marriage. Daddy’s done that for a lot of years.”
“Done what?” I asked, confused.
“Pushed women away. Pretended like my existence in the world was the reason he couldn’t stay with any of the women he dated. He claimed none of them wanted to deal with a single dad. I’m sure some didn’t, but I don’t buy that every woman he dated ran for the hills when they learned of my mere existence. I don’t want that to happen to you.”
“He can try, but he won’t succeed,” I promised, giving her a wink.
It was at that moment that I realized I was in this marriage for the long haul, whether he liked it or not.
Seventeen
“Bishop?” Amber called from the top of the hill, her voice questioning as she moved toward me. “Are you down here.”
She knew I was down here. She watched me walk down here an hour ago. I sat down here until I noticed the fire die out and hoped they’d gone to bed. I planned to sleep in the basement tonight, so I had a little time to myself.
I heard her on the dock, her crutches thumping on the wood as she made her way toward me. “Athena went to bed.”
“Good enough. I’m glad you hit it off with my daughter so well,” I said, my surly mood making my words sarcastic and tight.
“Well, I’m sorry. I’ll try harder to hate the sweet girl you raised,” she said, her words as sarcastic as mine. “She was only trying to help.” This time her words were soft, but they were like bullets to my back.
“By being disrespectful of everything I gave up to make sure she had a future.”
“Is that what you got out of that?” she asked, her words shocked and surprised. “Or is that what you wanted to hear?”
I turned and stared her down, my eyes filled with an emotion I wanted to pretend was anger but was probably closer to grief. “I heard what I heard. She’s eighteen and thinks she knows everything now. She doesn’t.”
“No, she doesn’t, and she admitted that in her advice to you. She does know you, though. She grew up seeing the things you did, both healthy and unhealthy, and she recognizes them now as an adult. Even if she’s only eighteen, all she wants is for you to stop feeling guilty because it hurts her, too. Have you ever thought of that?”
“What the hell are you talking about, Amber? That girl has had nothing but a good upbringing with parents who loved her and did everything in her best interest!”
“Agreed, but that doesn’t mean you dying on the sword all these years to do it didn’t hurt her. She understood more than you gave her credit for over the years. And before you say she heard that stuff from her mother, let me stop you because I will kick your ass with this crutch.”
I sighed and shook my head. “I didn’t die on any damn sword, Amber. I made choices that I thought were best at the time. I was seventeen-fucking-years-old. What was I supposed to do?”
“Maybe you were then, but you aren’t seventeen anymore. You’re thirty-four, and you raised that beautiful, smart, sweet girl to be a contributing member of society. What the fuck do you think you have to feel guilty about, Bishop? The fact that your condom broke? Do you think that makes you special? Condoms break all the time. Unplanned pregnancies happen all the time. Did it suck? Yeah, I’m sure it did. You were forced to be an adult in the blink of an eye, but then again, you were doing adult things, so you accepted that responsibility the moment you rolled on that condom. Holding onto your guilt now is pathetic. It’s a pointless emotion.
