Chapter 5 - What Regret Couldn’t Restore
The second came at my birthday dinner two months later.
He asked if the four of us could eat together.
For the children, I agreed.
Ben arrived early and cooked himself.
Clam chowder.
Crab cakes.
Roast beef with the ridiculous rosemary crust he had learned to make in our first apartment.
Sadie wore a paper crown although it was my birthday.
Miles gave me a card.
Inside he had written, I hope you stay happy even when nobody is helping you be happy.
I had to excuse myself to the bathroom for five minutes.
After cake, Sadie asked the question everyone had been avoiding.
“Daddy, can you sleep here tonight?”
Ben looked at me.
I shook my head once.
He turned back to her.
“No, sweetheart.”
“Why?”
“Because this isn’t Daddy’s house anymore.”
“But you know where everything is.”
His mouth trembled.
“That doesn’t make it my home.”
“Then make it your home again.”
The room went silent.
Ben crouched beside her.
“Sometimes grown-ups make choices they cannot take back just because they feel sorry later.”
Sadie frowned.
“Was it Mommy’s choice?”
“No.”
His answer came immediately.
“It was mine.”
I looked at him.
He continued.
“I made Mommy feel very lonely. And I didn’t understand how much I was hurting her until she stopped waiting for me to understand.”
That was the first time I heard him accept responsibility without defending himself.
After the children went upstairs, I stepped onto the terrace.
Ben followed.
The April night was cold.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, “I thought I wanted Mia.”
I turned.
He shook his head.
“Not physically. I mean what she represented.”
“What did she represent?”
“You.”
I almost laughed.
“That is convenient.”
“I know how it sounds.”
He gripped the railing.
“When Mia laughed, I remembered you laughing at eighteen. When she got excited about some tiny accomplishment, I remembered you celebrating with me when I signed my first client.”
His voice cracked.
“I thought I missed being young.”
He looked at me.
“I didn’t.”
“What did you miss?”
“The way I felt when I still noticed you.”
That answer hurt because it was finally honest.
Ben continued.
“You didn’t become dull, Laura. I became careless.”
Tears filled his eyes.
“You were still the girl who saved me. You were still the woman who believed in me. You just had more responsibilities because I helped put them on your shoulders.”
I said nothing.
“I watched you become a mother and an executive and somehow decided the girl I missed had disappeared.”
He wiped his face.
“But she didn’t disappear.”
“No.”
My voice was quiet.
“She grew up.”
He nodded.
“And I punished you for it.”
For the first time since our divorce, I cried in front of him.
Not because I wanted him back.
Because these were the words I had needed before I learned to live without them.
Ben reached toward me, then stopped himself.
“Laura.”
I wiped my cheeks.
“Do you want another chance?”
His breath caught.
“Yes.”
I nodded slowly.
“I know.”
Hope flashed across his face.
Then I said, “I’m not giving you one.”
He looked as if I had struck him.
“I forgive you.”
His eyes closed.
“But forgiveness isn’t restoration.”
“Why?”
“Because when I asked whether you loved me, you had to search yourself for an answer.”
My voice trembled.
“When I asked whether you wanted to stay married, you were silent.”
He began crying openly.
“I know.”
“I cannot spend the rest of my life wondering whether you chose me because you love me or because losing me frightened you.”
“I love you.”
“I believe you believe that now.”
He flinched.
“That isn’t the same as trusting it with my life.”
He covered his face with one hand.
For a long time, only the wind moved between us.
Finally he asked, “Then what am I supposed to do with all this regret?”
I looked through the glass doors toward the staircase where our children had disappeared.
“Become the father they deserve.”
His hand dropped.
“And after that?”
“Become a man you respect even when nobody is watching.”
“And us?”
I looked at the person who had once been my safest place.
“There is no us to repair.”
His face crumpled.
“There is you.”
I placed a hand over my heart.
May you like
“And there is me.”
Then I went inside.
