It was more than he’d ever discussed with Abby. With anyone, really. He tended to keep his life story to himself. But she was the mother of his child, so it was easy to believe he was telling her what she needed to know to understand the kind of father he wanted to be.
“I know it sounds absurd, given our situation, but there was never any security when I was growing up. Max and I felt like the boundaries of our world shifted with the tide. Our mother was – and remains – a changeable person. And depending on who she was married to at the time, the tenor of our house changed with each marriage.” He placed his wine glass directly above his knife, lining it up squarely. “It wasn’t about money,” he said slowly. “But controlling our own future was important to both of us.”
She shook her head gently, her dark hair shimmering with the movement. “Did you ever talk to your mom about how you felt?”
“No. She wouldn’t have understood.”
“She might have.”
He dismissed that with a curt smile.
But Abby wasn’t finished. She leaned further forward, putting her hand on his. “These stepfathers,” she said gently, pausing while she worked out how to frame the question.
“They weren’t abusive,” he said, intercepting the direction of her thoughts. “At least, not in the ways you’d imagine. Stepfather number three was a piece of work. He was old-school strict and made Max’s life a living hell.” He ground his teeth together, remembering the sound of her crying when she was locked in her room, the lights out, her fear of the dark overwhelming her little seven year old heart.
“But nor were they kind.”
“And so you felt you had to protect Max,” she suggested softly.
“We protected each other.”
Her smile was tilted; gentle, soft. Stunning. His gut rolled. “I see.”
“Max is pretty fierce, you know.” He laughed suddenly, shaking his head. The mood lifted. “She really is. She’s strong and whip smart, and despite –,” he paused, not sure if he was crossing a boundary by revealing something so personal about his sister. “Some of the stuff that happened when we were kids, she’s not afraid of anything. In fact, she’s kind of terrifying if you get on the wrong side of her.”
“Great. I’m not nervous to meet her at all.”
He studied her thoughtfully. “You’ll be fine. Family’s everything to Max.”
“Which makes it even worse that I’ve kept Charlotte from you all.” She closed her eyes lightly, blocking herself from him, but the anguish around her eyes showed him how churned up she was by the prospect of this meeting.
He turned his hand over, capturing hers. Before he could offer any words of reassurance, Abby opened her eyes and stared right through him, her throat shifting as she swallowed.
“She’s going to hate me.”
“No, she’s going to love you.”
She shook her head, brushing that platitude aside.
“And she’s going to love Charlotte. She will think you’re amazing and fierce for having raised such a kickass little girl.”
Abby’s eyes shimmered with the hint of tears. “Why are you being so nice about this?”
He frowned. “As opposed to?”
“I don’t know. I just didn’t expect…”
“I have no interest in making you miserable. I wish…” he cleared his throat, his own emotions rioting. “I wish, more than I have words to express, that I had known about her sooner. I wish I had been there from day one. I wish I’d seen her birth, I wish I’d held her in my arms when she was new and tiny and pink. I wish I’d been there foryou.” His voice was hoarse. “But wishing can’t change the past. I’m here now. I’m in her life, and your life, and I want to make that a good thing. I want to make our family great. I want her to know that I’m not going anywhere.”
The moisture in Abby’s eyes gave way to a single tear that rolled down her cheek. She dashed it away quickly, offering a tight smile by way of apology.
He didn’t want an apology though. He wanted to reach over and wipe the tear himself, to kiss her, to hold her. He wanted…he was losing his mind. He sat straighter, withdrawing his hand, needing some physical distance between them even when that was the exact opposite of every instinct he possessed.
“It’s just the opposite…I can’t tell you how much that would have meant to me, when I was a girl.”
“You’re so full of admiration for your mother.”
“Oh, she’s amazing. She did such a great job. But my dad was like this elusive, unattainable force and it was easy to think, when I was young, that he just didn’t love me enough to stay.” She cleared her throat, focusing beyond his shoulder. “That I wasn’t loveable enough for him to stay.”