Page 61 of In Your Wake

My jaw tightens, and I grimace. “This is weird. You don’t need to—”

“Let me finish.”

I shut up, mostly out of reflex. The authority in his tone reminds me of when he’d yell from the bleachers at my matches in the junior league.

“From the day you were born,” he continues, “you’ve brought me incredible joy. I can see you’ve grown into a strong man. Better than I ever was.”

That’s a low bar, I think, but keep my mouth shut and stare out at the garden.

“It pains me that we never mended things. That I didn’t try harder over the years. That I didn’t explain or own what I did.”

That makes me look at him. He shifts in his chair, wincing.

“Thirteen years ago, I made the worst mistake of my life.”

I glance over at Maxine, who stiffens, dropping her chin.

“I had an affair,” he says plainly.

I bark out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, Dad. We know all this. It’s a bit late, don’t you think?”

“If you’d stop interrupting, you’d see I’m trying to be honest here.”

“That’s new,” I shoot back.

“Mitch, shut up and let the man speak,” Maxine snaps.

Surprised, I glare at her. She widens her eyes as if to say, What?

“I hurt people who didn’t deserve it,” Dad says. “I broke everyone’s trust. And instead of fixing the fallout, I ran and left you two to deal with it. I told myself time would fix things. I thought if I wasn’t around… That distance might make it all easier.” He shakes his head faintly. “But I see now that it only made things worse. It tore you two apart.”

Maxine’s face remains stoic.

“What did you expect?” I snap.

“I didn’t expect you two to be where you are now,” Bill replies.

“And where are we now?”

“Alienated. Repeating my mistakes.”

I can’t even come up with anything to say. He looks at Maxine, his eyes softening in a way I can tell makes her uncomfortable. She shifts to lean on the wall, adjusting her stance, then returns to her original spot. She’s skittish. She doesn’t want to be here. No more than I do.

“I just needed to apologize,” he says. As if he spent most of his energy, he exhales weakly and his shoulders drop. “To say I’m sorry. Out loud. Before the opportunity gets taken from me.”

I swallow hard, totally aware of Max’s blue eyes on me, but still can’t look her way.

“I don’t expect forgiveness,” Bill adds. “From either of you. And I regret not reaching out to you sooner, Mitch. Not finding the words.”

“Why?” I ask suddenly, sharper than I meant to. “Why did you do it?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “I was selfish and had it all. A beautiful wife and son. A great home. But I wanted to take something that wasn’t mine. And I was arrogant and thought I’d never lose what I had.” Dad turns his gaze fully on me. “You two…”

Maxine tenses immediately. “Don’t.”

“Oh, I’m going to,” Bill replies.

There’s an unspoken understanding that floats between them, as if this conversation isn’t new. Yet again, it’s like I’m on the outside, looking in. “What’s going on?”