Page 87 of Mr. Smithfield

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“Lack of trust isn’t the reason we’re not going to work out,” I said, my mind completely clear. “We’re not compatible. I want someone who wants me. Not the idea of me. Not a husband. Not the father of her child. But me: Gabriel Chase. I’m not looking for someone who needs me to complete them.”

I’d told Autumn I’d try with Penelope and I had. I could genuinely say that I’d spent time with her, wanting to understand why things hadn’t worked between us. I’d looked carefully at that idealized image of family that I’d longed for. But I’d realized what I wanted wasn’t simply the opposite of the life I’d had as a child. My dream had crystalized—had been for a while now but most especially in the past month.

I wasn’t the same man I had been when I’d conjured up that ideal. I was a father now. I was older. I didn’t want some fantasy. I wanted to be happy.

“I’m not asking you to leave our lives.” I continued. “I’m not saying you can’t be a mother to Bethany. But we can’t be married anymore. And I think one day, you’ll see that too. I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for.”

“But I loved our life together.”

“Are you sure?” I asked her, genuinely curious. “Some of it worked, Penelope. But if it wasn’t enough for you to stay then, is it enough now?”

Minutes ticked by as she gazed out the window.

“I want it to be,” she said finally.

I reached across the table for her hand. “I know. But I’m not sure wishing something is enough makes it enough. If that was the case, you would never have left.”

“I did love you.” Her eyes pleaded with me to believe her.

Love seemed like such a meaningless word when it came to our marriage. I wasn’t sure it had been about love for either of us. “I thought you were my forever but looking back . . . I should have known. Looking back, you were always searching for something. And you didn’t find it in me. Or in Bethany.”

A churning in my gut stirred memories of that cupboard where I used to hide. The shouting. The crying. I knew it then. I understood all those years ago that my father should have left. My mother should have kicked him out. We weren’t enough for him. I didn’t think Penelope had cheated on me. Maybe she had—it didn’t matter. I was breaking this cycle. I wasn’t going to take her back when I knew nothing was solved and so nothing would change. Maybe she’d stay, but if she did, she wouldn’t be happy. We weren’t enough. She had to figure out what she needed to make herself whole.

“I think I’m broken,” she said. “You are the best of men. And Bethany’s adorable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Maybe it was me. Penelope had left and now Autumn was finding her fulfilment in Europe. I knew Autumn had left because she thought it was best for me. But she was young. Perhaps down the road, she’d realize I wouldn’t be enough for her either. Something told me that it wasn’t the same. What Autumn and I had was deeper somehow than what Penelope and I had. We hadn’t talked about a future together, but I saw it as clear as I saw the plate in front of me. I knew we’d be together, knew it in my bones. “I don’t think it’s you. And I don’t think it’s me. You need to find you, rather than look for someone else to give you what you need.”

“Please don’t take Bethany away from me,” she said, her voice full of panic. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but I promise you, I’ll do nothing to hurt her again.”

I shook my head. “I’m not going to take her away. But she needs stability. We’ll figure out how to put her first without putting you last. Let’s agree now, in this moment, that we’ll figure out something that works for all of us.”

“Like I said, you’re the best of men, Gabriel Chase.” She took in a juddering breath. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” For the first time since she’d walked out on us three years ago, I felt at peace. Relieved. We weren’t going to enter some kind of hell-loop where she came and went and we were both dragged into misery. Bethany wouldn’t have to hide in cupboards, and I wouldn’t waste my life wishing reality was something it wasn’t. Penelope and I weren’t meant to be. That had nothing to do with my anger or resentment, or not giving her a second chance. And it had nothing to do with Autumn.

Forty-Three

Gabriel

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been away from Bethany overnight, but I was surprisingly relaxed about it.


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