She watched me rise and brush invisible lint off my suit jacket with disbelief. It’s like no one ever apologized to her and she simply didn’t know what to make of it.
“I mean every word I just said. I have no ill-wish towards you, Diane. I’m ready to start all over again, if you’d like to be a part of our lives.”
“You think by coming in here and saying what you said, all is forgiven?” Her chin wobbled and I cursed under my breath.
Obviously, I caused this woman some white hair inducing tension and I owned up to it. I wasn’t perfect, but fuck if I wouldn’t try to be for her daughter. “No. I accept full responsibility for hurting you in the past. I sincerely apologize and hope that we can peacefully coexist in the future.”
There were no tricks up my sleeves.
Diane seemed to relax and slowly come to the understanding that I genuinely wasn’t out to get her.
“There is one more thing I want from you, though.”
“Of course. There’s your punch line,” she spat. “What is it?”
She’s so fucking insufferable. I have no ideahow my wife is related to her.
“Put your stubbornness aside and call your daughter. Judging by your state, you’re miserable without her. I know my wife checks her phone every so often, wondering if you’ll reach out. She’s found happiness with us, but you’re still her mother, Diane. Do the right thing. Call her and apologize. Life is too short to hold onto pride.”
Diane screwed her eyes closed.
Seeing her looking so frail, I did hate myself a little bit for treating her so callously, even though she had deserved it.
“Did you tell her my secret?” she whispered, defeated.
Darla was going to lose it when she found out. “No, that’s for you to tell her. But I ask you to exert gentleness whenever you break the news. I don’t like seeing my wife upset and this will inevitably wreck her.”
I wished I could shield Darla from this one secret.
However, my job was to be her pillar once everything was out in the open and help glue her pieces together with my strength.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets and whirled around to walk away when Diane stopped me, asking, “H-How is my daughter doing, Zeno?”
It grated my nerves that she was asking me instead of reaching out to Darla; I played the bigger person nonetheless.
“Darla’s busy but happy. She’s learning how to cook.” I looked forward to her burnt chocolate chip cookies every week. “She’s finalized the reconstruction plans for St. Victoria.” I admired my wife’s work ethic; she was a fucking badass. “And she’s almost done writing her book.”
I got carried away during my proud sermon and forgot Diane had no clue about Darla’s prolific author side.
“Ah, yes. I saw the pre-order go live a few days ago.”
The confusion on my face had my mother-in-law grinning self-deprecatingly.
“I know my daughter is an author. I’ve known it for a while but never said a word. Frankly, it’s insulting for people to assume I’m not aware of what’s going on under my own roof. However, I understand it’s entirely my fault my daughter was so secretive about this. I’ve spent a lot of our lives focused on wanting the best for Dacia and Darla, without realizing that I needed to stop behaving in a controlling manner and let them decide their futures for themselves. I’ve neglected and hurt them in terrible ways. I regret my actions and if I could go back in time, I would conduct myself differently.”
“I hate to break it to you, Diane, but you’re nearly three decades too late. You should be relaying this to Darla and Dacia. Not me.”
Shame coated her features. “I know.”
I cut my mother-in-law some slack. “Do you swear to never utter a single word of disrespect towards my wife again?”
She winced. “I swear.”
“Do you support her dreams and ambitions?”
“Yes. I’ve seen the wrong in my ways. I just couldn’t own up to it before.”
“Then maybe it’s time to change that.”