LUCAS
“You’re going to have to explain this to me slowly.” It’s a good thing I already picked the whiskey out of the cabinet since I’m going to need a stiff drink after this. Maybe the entire contents of the bottle. How often does a man hear the voice of a woman he believed was dead?
“I know you must be confused.”
“Confused? That doesn’t begin to describe what I’m feeling.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to happen this way.”
Her voice is the same: sweet, filled with apology. She did a lot of apologizing when we were together, for reasons I don’t remember anymore. Maybe there weren’t any reasons in the first place. Maybe I wanted her to be wrong, wanted a reason to hurt her.
“You make it sound like you didn’t have any choice but to pretend you were dead.”
“I didn’t. Her adoptive parents sent me to Europe and made it look like I had died. They wouldn’t give me details. I didn’t know anything about it. I didn’t disappear because I wanted to. I disappeared because they made me. They didn’t want me to have anything to do with her and were afraid I might try to have a relationship with her.“
“And you couldn’t be bothered to reach out in all these years? Let somebody know you were actually alive?” My jaw tightens. “Your daughter, for instance?”
It seems like I still want to hurt her. There’s pain in her voice when she murmurs, “I tried to get in touch with Aspen. I even tried to get in touch with you. It’s not that easy. I don’t have the kind of resources you have.”
I suck in a deep breath, reminding myself that I’m not innocent in all of this. We never would have been in this mess if it wasn’t for me. “Start from the beginning. You gave her up for adoption, but you tried to stay in touch with them?”
“She was a little girl, and I wanted to hear her voice. You have no idea how many nights I spent crying with nobody to hear me, wishing I knew what my little girl sounded like. Do you understand what that’s like? Loving somebody so much and knowing there’s no way to be with them?”
I hear her words, but I refuse to let them sink in. I can’t think about that because it would inevitably take me down paths I don’t want to travel. “What happened when you tried?”
“At first, they ignored me. Then after a while, she was getting older and saw the people she lived with as her family. I didn’t want to drop a bomb on her, so eventually, I convinced myself it was in her best interest to stay away. But not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about her—you don’t have to believe anything else I say but believe that. There have been times when the thought of her is the only thing that has kept me going.”
I believe her, and not only because she was never a liar. If there’s one person I could always see through, it was her. She had a quiet strength I couldn’t appreciate back in the day, but I see it for what it is now.
And I hear it in her still. The years might have changed a lot of things for both of us, but that’s remained the same.
“Why now?” I’m still gripping the bottle tight but haven’t put my lips on it since before answering the phone. I want what’s left of my good sense intact for this.
“I started trying again when she turned eighteen. I found her social media, but she wasn’t active online. I was worried and dug deeper, leading to new articles about Aspen’s father being arrested. Since then, I’ve been trying to find out where she is now.”
“And how exactly did you figure out she is here?”
“Well… I don’t really know. I kept hitting dead ends, and suddenly I got an anonymous email telling me that Aspen is at a university in Alaska and that you are the headmaster. I thought it was a cruel joke, to be honest.”
“Well, I felt the same when they offered me this position.”
“I know she’s there, with you. Please just tell me she is safe.”
“She is safe, and she is happy. She’s been through a lot, but she is in a good place now.”
“Does she know you are her father?”
“Yes. She hasn’t known for long, neither have I, but I guess that’s my fault.”
“For what it’s worth, I tried to tell you when I first found out I was pregnant.”
“I know that.”
“I would like to come to Corium to meet her.”
Of course she does. “I don’t know if this is the right time.” How much more can she handle? Aspen has hardly had time to get over the shock. So much has happened.
I have such a fragile relationship with her. How can I expect her to believe I didn’t know about this all along?