Page 182 of His Surrender

I spent nineteen years believing my father’s greatest tragedy was losing my mother. Today, I realize his greatest blessing was getting to love her at all.

I close my eyes for a moment.

How close have I come to throwing away the love I have with Aubrey?

Not because she had done something wrong, but because I was afraid. Somewhere inside me, fifteen-year-old Dean had convinced thirty-four-year-old Dean that if I simply refused to love deeply enough, I could never hurt that badly again.

I was wrong.

The driver slows in front of my building.

“I’ll be staying home the rest of the day,” I tell him.

“Yes, Mr. Ledger.”

I step onto the sidewalk and head inside. The elevator ride feels longer than usual. My pulse steadily climbs with every passing floor.

But this time, I’m not feeling afraid. I’m determined.

When the doors slide open, the apartment is quiet, except for the faint sound of children’s music drifting from somewhere deeper inside.

I round the corner into the living room.

Aubrey is sitting on the floor in the playpen with Liana, helping her stack her new favorite colored blocks that my daughter seems far more interested in chewing than building with.

Neither of them notices me immediately.

Liana laughs, and Aubrey’s laugh follows along with her. The sound hits me squarely in the chest.

This is what I almost walked away from.

Aubrey finally looks up, and the smile disappears from her face.

“You’re home early,” she says softly.

“I am.”

She studies me for a second before standing. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.” She kisses the top of Liana’s head before climbing out of the playpen and walks toward me.

There’s caution in every step that I realize I put there.

She stops a few feet away. “Everything okay?”

I shake my head. “No.”

Concern flashes across her face. “What happened?”

“I need to talk to you.”

She nods once. “Okay.”

I glance toward Liana. “Can she play for a few minutes?”

Aubrey follows my gaze. “She’s fine.”

Neither of us moves as the silence stretches between us.

Finally, I take a slow breath. “I’ve made a decision.”