“If you’re worried whether he suffered, don’t. His death came quickly.”
Confusion is strong enough to pry my eyes from the image of my father’s face, so I can search Lucas’s instead. “Really? But how would anybody know for sure?”
“I have it on good authority. I’m sure you would rather I not go into detail, so I’m going to ask you to trust me. He died quickly and as painlessly as possible, which, given the circumstances, might’ve been the best he could hope for.”
The outcome doesn’t change, but at least I know the ugliness from my nightmares was only my imagination. “I’m so relieved to hear that. You don’t want to know what’s been going on in my head all this time. I try not to think about it, but still. Sometimes I can’t help it.”
He offers an understanding smile. I wonder how much ugliness he’s seen and whether he can compartmentalize it the way I’ve tried to.
“I’m glad I could offer reassurance. As for what you’re holding, that’s a video I received. It was created for you. Addressed to you. I haven’t watched it,” he assures me, answering a question I was too afraid to ask. It would hardly be the first time my privacy has been disregarded.
The tablet is shaking. No, that’s my hands doing the shaking. A final message from my father. He’s wearing an orange jumpsuit, the way I always imagine in my dreams, with a gray cinder block wall at his back. His attention is focused squarely on the camera. There I was, thinking I would never hear his voice again. But now I’m too afraid of what he has to say to cherish the opportunity.
“I’ll leave you alone,” Lucas murmurs, standing.
“No, please. You don’t have to go. I’m not sure I want to be alone for this.” He offers a small shrug before sitting again. His body language screams tension like he’s poised to help if I can’t handle what’s coming.
Deep breath. You can do this, Aspen. My heart is thudding wildly by the time I tap the screen, starting the video.
Dad wears a sad smile. “Aspen.” Instantly, tears spring to my eyes. “Honey, it was important to me that I get this message to you.” He sounds worn out, but there’s a firm determination under the tenderness in his voice.
“I never had the chance to fully apologize. I am so sorry for what my choices and my mistakes did to you. You deserved none of this. I need you to know how much I love you. You’ve been a gift. One bright, good thing in the middle of the mess I’ve made. I’ve been proud of you all your life. Since I ruined everything, the strength you’ve shown only makes me prouder.”
My chin quivers. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take, and according to the progress bar at the bottom of the window, there’s still a lot to go.
He draws a deep breath. “There’s something you need to know. I don’t want you carrying around the shame of having me as a father for the rest of your life. You deserve to know the truth.”
It’s almost like his eyes are burning into mine. They’re so intense. “Though I always loved you like my own, I’m not your biological father. You were adopted shortly after your birth.” He pauses, almost like he’s waiting for me to absorb this.
It’ll never be enough time. This can’t be true! I cover my mouth with one hand, shaking my head. No way. He’s just saying this to let me off the hook, right? Permission to cut him and Mom out of my heart forever and move on. That must be it.
“We kept it a secret to protect you, sweetheart,” he continues. “Your mother was a good woman, from what I heard. Her name was Charlotte, but I’m afraid that’s the only concrete information I ever learned about her. I know she was a good woman because she understood your father—your biological father—was a dangerous man who couldn’t be trusted with you. She was scared to death of him, and she loved you enough to keep her pregnancy hidden from his family. I also knew your father, and he wasn’t exactly a family man. He would only have placed you and your mother in harm’s way from day one.”
“I can’t believe this,” I say. My mind doesn’t want to accept it. I want to stop the video, but curiosity won’t let me. I have to know everything. Even if it hurts.
“When you were born, Charlotte wanted to give you up for adoption, but she was scared of putting it on paper. She didn’t want to leave any chance of your father finding you. We knew we couldn’t have any children naturally, so we agreed to raise you as our own daughter. I don’t know whether we ever would have told you about this, to be honest. I’m sorry to say, Charlotte passed away years ago, but before that, she occasionally checked in, and we shared pictures with her. I don’t want you to think your birth mother abandoned you or didn’t love you. She just cared about you so much that she let you go.”