“Then you weren’t very good at it.”
“No,” I said. “I wasn’t.”
He fell silent.
“I don’t know how to call you Dad.”
“Andrew will do until you’re ready.”
Just before ending the call, he asked,
“Did you ever have another family?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I already had one.”
PART 3
Near the end of her life, Clara came across a newspaper clipping about the memorial I held at the bridge every year.
When she realized I had never stopped searching, she recorded a message asking Gwen to help the children find me.
Aria later discovered the tape hidden among Clara’s belongings in a box Gwen had packed.
“Play it,” I said. “Peace built on a lie isn’t peace.”
Clara’s weakened voice filled the room.
“Aria. Shaun. Your father loved you. Gwen believed she was protecting me, but fear isn’t truth. I should’ve asked your father for the truth.”
Aria covered her mouth.
“Gwen said you caused Mom’s stroke,” Shaun said from the doorway. “She said Mom collapsed because you chose another woman.”
My grip tightened around my cane.
“And after Mom struggled for years, Gwen said she’d lost the will to recover because of you,” Aria added. “We blamed you when she died.”
I looked at both of them.
“You were children living inside the only story an adult allowed you to hear.”
Then I called Gwen.
“I found Clara’s note.”
“What do you want, Andrew?”
“You’ve spoken for my wife long enough. Tomorrow, you listen.”
The family gathered the following evening.
Gwen stood at the head of the table.
“I did what Clara needed.”
“No,” I said. “You did what kept Clara dependent on you.”
“I protected her from you.”
“You photographed me, assumed the worst, then hid behind the car accident.”
I turned to Aria and Shaun.
“I failed your mother too. She asked me what I was hiding, and I gave her silence. I thought being faithful was enough.”
Gwen raised her chin.
“Exactly.”
I faced her again.
“That was my failure. The next 40 years were your choice.”
Aria placed Sarah’s records on the table.
“Did Dad ever say he was leaving us?” she asked.
“No.”
