“I just wanted to make things better with Mom. And it’s not as if she was wrong about the job. Gwendolyn has amazing connections, and it was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up,” I admit.
My mother appears in the doorway, her surprise turning to concern as soon as she sees my face. “Wren, honey, is everything okay?”
My dad’s smile is sad as he sets the Rubik’s Cube on the table, one side already uniform again. “We have a situation on our hands, Abigail.” My dad fills her in, and with each admission, her face grows paler, and I begin to second-guess myself. My mother may have made a mistake all those years ago, but she’s genuinely a good person. I see it every time we volunteer at the hospital together. I suddenly realize she’s spent her entire adult life trying to make up for a lapse in judgment.
“Maybe we can find another way.” Even as I say it, I know there isn’t one. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt by this. It’s not going to look good for your campaign.”
My dad dismisses the idea. “Forget about the campaign, Wren. That’s not what this is about.”
“But if everyone finds out I’m adopted—”
“This is my fault,” my mother says softly.
“This isn’t yours to own, Abigail—”
My mother puts up a hand to stop my dad. “It is, though. I ultimately made the decision that’s led to this. It’s me you were protecting all those years by keeping the adoption a secret. We should’ve addressed it when Wren found out.” My mother turns to me. “I’m so sorry, honey.” She takes my hands in hers, expression imploring. “You’re in a bad situation because of my choices.”
“This situation is as much my fault,” my dad interjects.
My mother gives him a soft, sad smile. “We can both own it.”
In all the years since I found out I was the product of an affair, neither of them has ever really talked about it with me.
My mom squeezes my hands. “We wanted to protect you. I wanted to protect you. When your dad and I found out you weren’t biologically his, I was devastated, not because I was pregnant, but because I’d made your life so difficult even before you were born. I didn’t want you to grow up being ashamed of me and how you’d come to be. But if it hadn’t been for you, Wren, I don’t think your dad and I would still be together.”
All the knots in my stomach tighten. “I don’t understand.”
“You were our wake-up call, Wren. You were the reason behind the ‘Family First’ platform. I pushed your mother to make a decision she regrets because I was absent. We were both at fault, she and I. It’s not just one of us who’s culpable. I was too focused on my career and not focused enough on our relationship. I ignored all the signs. I pushed aside your mother’s needs and placated her with things instead of love. You were the reason I finally opened my eyes and saw what I was doing to the person I loved the most.”
My parents look at each other, and I don’t see any regret, only love.
I voice the one thing that has eaten at me all these years. “I always wondered if you looked at me and saw your biggest mistake. Especially since you lost Robyn, and she was really yours.”
Tears spill over and cascade down my mom’s cheeks. “Oh, sweetheart, no. Losing Robyn was painful for all of us, but it was also inevitable.”
“I don’t understand.”
My mom and dad exchange a remorseful look before she continues. “We should’ve explained this years ago, but talking about it was just so difficult. Your father and I are both carriers of a rare genetic disorder. We can’t have children together, but with you, I didn’t pass on the gene. So if it weren’t for you, we would have no children of our own. You were our miracle, Wren. You always have been. You’re the reason for everything good in our lives. We always wanted you, both of us. Your father signed the adoption papers because as far as we were concerned, you were ours in every way that counted.”
They envelop me in a hug, one that’s full of the promise of healing.
“I don’t think either of us fully considered the ramifications when you were born, Wren. And then, when you found those documents when you were a teenager, we should’ve handled things differently so we could’ve avoided putting you in this kind of position. You should never have carried this burden. We’ll make this right for you, Wren. For all of us,” my father says.
He pulls me and my mother into another hug so tight, it’s almost hard to breathe. We stay like that for a long time, letting go of emotions tied to a past we can’t ever get rid of and a pain that suddenly feels fresh.