The doc sipped his coffee. “I wasn’t planning on psychoanalyzing you. I figured if you were here, you could use someone to talk to. I’m not your doctor, but I’m a man, and you’re a fellow man who seems in need. That’s all.”
Well, now I felt like shit. I raked a hand through my hair. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Trust me, I don’t get offended easily. Hazard of the career. Most people who show up at my door aren’t there because they want to be. Either the court or their family forced their hand. It’s not uncommon for me to be told to fuck off because I’m an asshole in the first fifteen minutes of a session.”
I smiled. “I’m usually good at holding my tongue for the first half hour of a meeting.”
Dr. Booth smiled back. “May I ask you a personal question?”
I shrugged. “Go for it. It doesn’t mean I have to answer.”
He shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. Are you married?”
“No.”
“In a relationship?”
I thought of Ireland. I was. Or am I? I don’t fucking know. “I’ve been seeing someone, yes.”
“Are you happy?”
Another loaded question I couldn’t answer easily. “It’s hard to be happy when you’ve lost a child. But, yeah…Ireland makes me happy.” I shook my head. “For the first time in seven damn years.”
Doc was quiet for a long time again. “Is it possible you came today because you want forgiveness so you can move on?”
I felt the veins in my neck pulse with anger. “Lily doesn’t deserve forgiveness.”
Dr. Booth caught my eyes. “I wasn’t referring to Lily. Forgiveness is something you have to find within yourself. No one can give that to you. Yes, I believe your ex-wife suffers from bipolar disorder that caused her behavior to be manic, and that, coupled with severe postpartum depression, made her do something unthinkable, but you don’t need to agree with me in order to find forgiveness. Forgiveness doesn’t excuse Lily’s behavior. Forgiveness allows that behavior to not destroy your heart anymore.”
I tasted salt in the back of my mouth. I’d cried enough in the last seven years; I wasn’t about to sit in the same building my ex-wife breathed in and shed any more tears. I cleared my throat, hoping to swallow my emotions.
“I know you mean well, Doc. And I appreciate it. I really do… But Lily doesn’t deserve forgiveness.” I shook my head. “I should really get going. Thanks for the coffee and Tylenol.”
I stood and extended my hand to Dr. Booth. When he clasped mine, he again looked into my eyes. “I don’t think you want to forgive Lily. I think you want to forgive yourself. You did nothing wrong, Grant. Give yourself that forgiveness and move on. Sometimes people don’t allow themselves to forgive because they’re afraid they’ll forget—forgive and forget. But you’ll never forget Leilani. You just need to realize there’s room in your heart for more than one person again.”
“Tell her to stop writing the letters, Doc.”
Chapter 35
* * *
Ireland
Almost two weeks had passed, and yet it felt like a year.
Between my construction and work, I had enough to keep me busy. But every time I passed the exit that led to the marina where Grant lived, it felt like ripping a Band-Aid off of a fresh wound.
It was Saturday afternoon, and Mia and I were meeting for lunch at our favorite Greek restaurant. I’d gotten caught in traffic, so I arrived a few minutes late, and she’d already gotten a table.
“Hey.” I slid into the booth across from her.
Her face wrinkled up when she looked at me. “Did you come from the gym?”
“No. Why?”
Mia frowned. “No offense, but you sort of look like shit.”
I sighed. “I didn’t feel like doing my hair. I thought the messy bun was still in?”
“It is. But yours looks more like a rat’s nest. And your shirt has a giant stain on it, and either you have black eyes coming in or you didn’t get all of yesterday’s makeup off.”
I looked down at my sweatshirt. Sure enough, there was a giant, round spot. I rubbed at it. “I had a container of Ben & Jerry’s for dinner last night. I missed my mouth a few times.”
Mia raised a brow. “So you slept in that shirt?”
“Shut up. I’ve seen you wear the same outfit for days when you’re sick.”
“That’s because I’m sick. Are you?”
“No.”
She made yet another disapproving face. “I take it you still haven’t heard from Grant?”
My shoulders slumped. “No.”
Mia shook her head. “I can’t believe he turned out to be such a piece of shit.”
“He’s not a piece of shit. He just…really didn’t want children.”
“Yes. And five years ago, I didn’t ever want to get married. I really didn’t want my mom to die at fifty-nine last year either. This is life. We do our best to live it, but we can’t be in control of everything.”
“I know. But having children is something we can control.”
“Did you take all of your pills?”
“Yes.”
“Did Grant wear a condom every time you had sex?”
“Yes.”
“Then obviously there are times we can’t control it. Nothing in life is foolproof.”
“I know. But he has a good reason for being upset.” A few days after Grant walked out, I’d unloaded everything on Mia—from my pregnancy to the reason I’d found out he didn’t want children.
“Of course he does. He’s experienced an unthinkable trauma. I understand that. So he deserved a little time to be shocked and upset, but it’s been almost two weeks now. What is he going to do? Pretend he doesn’t have a child and this entire thing doesn’t exist?”
I’d been wondering the same thing lately. The first few days he didn’t call or come by, I understood why he was upset. But at what point did he plan on dealing with the reality of our situation? I’d been so certain he’d come around…even if he didn’t want to be with me or want to be involved with this baby’s life. I thought he would at least own up to it and we’d talk. But the past few days, I’d started to lose the last shred of confidence in him. Hence the ice cream dinners.
“Can we just…not talk about it today? I need a day off from dealing with everything. Let’s stuff our faces and go to the movies like we planned and eat buttered popcorn with Snowcaps until we feel nauseous.”
Mia nodded. “Of course. Sure. But can I say one more thing? And it’s not really about Grant.”
I smiled. So Mia. “Sure.”
Her face lit up as her lips curved. “I went off the pill.”
My eyes widened. “Really? I thought you and Christian wanted to wait a year or two before having kids.”
“We did. But things change. I’ve been thinking about it since the day you told me you were pregnant. Then, a few days ago Christian came into the bathroom while I was brushing my teeth. You know my routine in the morning—teeth then pill. He looked at them in my hand and said, ‘I can’t wait until you’re pregnant. The thought of you with a big belly just turns me on like you wouldn’t believe.’