Regrets After the Split: Does It Matter

Chapter11

And as soon as she returned, she swept away all of Charles and Aaron’s attention.

All those familial bonds I might have had and the love I had never received were taken from me without the slightest hesitation.

On Aaron’s birthday, she announced that she had prepared a grand surprise for him. Without a second thought, Aaron dashed toward her, leaving me behind.

Charles said Vanessa still didn’t like me, so he wouldn’t bring me along. He promised he’d bring Aaron back before sunset to celebrate my birthday with me.

But that day, they didn’t return.

Until midnight, Charles called to say that Aaron had played too hard and fallen asleep. He didn’t want to wake him, so they were resting

outside.

In the stillness of the night, I sat at the window for what felt like an eternity.

I remembered Samantha’s last words, holding my hand with sadness, asking, “What will you do if no one treats you well in the future?”

Grandma, I no longer like celebrating my birthday.

Out of politeness, I let Charles and Aaron in and pour them some ice

water.

Doris fetches a calendar from the cabinet and points to a date circled

in red, “This is Mom’s birthday.”

Aaron looks at me, anxious and uncertain, his eyes glistening, wanting to speak but too afraid to do so.

The two of them, father and son, are so similar in every way, from their looks to their actions. I must have just contributed the womb, as Aaron doesn’t seem to resemble me at all.

Charles put the gifts in an available corner and said, “I overlooked it this time; next time-”

“Next time, you don’t need to prepare any of this,” I interrupt him. “Next time, you don’t need to come at all.”

Charles turns his back to me, his body tense. After a long pause, he finally turns around, “I’m sorry. Can we talk privately?”

How rare it is for that sentence to come out of his mouth.

I make some drinks for the two little ones and turn on the TV, tuning it to a children’s channel before leading Charles to the gazebo in the yard.

“It’s beautiful here,” he remarks, almost awkwardly.

“Thanks for the compliment.” I cut to the chase, “If you have

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something to say, just say it.”

“I notice you don’t have any other men around you right now,” Charles says, “If you don’t mind, could we remarry?”

I stare at him, speechless.