Absolution (Disenchanted Book 3)

by L. D. Davis

  He wiped his face with the hem of his shirt. Still, he couldn’t look at the camera and just looked down at his lap or the floor. Even from that view, I saw the huge tears fall from his eyes.

  “I was so depressed. I ruined Lily. I ruined her relationship with you. There was so much fallout from my actions, so many people who were hurt, and I blamed only myself. You literally saved my life when you told me you were pregnant. When I asked you to marry me, I didn’t do it because I felt obligated or because I was trying to be closer to your sister through you.”

  His eyes found the camera again, and his teary gaze went right through me.

  “Lydia, I asked you to marry me because that was what I wanted. You were what I wanted, and…I’ve done nothing but fail you this whole time, but I need to set something straight. When I went back to the east coast that time, when Gav was just a baby, I wanted to see Lily, but not for me. I wanted her to give you another chance. You never said anything, but I knew you missed your sister and carried a lot of your own pain and guilt over what happened to her. I wanted to take that away from you. I wanted to give your sister back to you, but I chickened out when I had the chance to approach her. I had flashbacks of the day she tried to kill herself, and of losing Anna, and when I came home and you told me you were pregnant, I was so mixed up in my own head. I had all of that shit in my head, and I was terrified and unreasonable. I just…I was afraid for you. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I was afraid of losing you. I’m sorry it came out the way it did, but it wasn’t what I meant at all, and I think…I think I ruined things for us from that point on.”

  That was the end of that video. Past conversations and situations flew through my mind. That day in particular was one that came to me often. It was the day I’d told him I was pregnant with Cora.

  He stared at me blankly. “What did you say?”

  “Pregnant,” I whispered as I stared at his face.

  “I thought you were on the pill.” His words came out sterile, without emotion.

  “I…I am, or was, but the ones I was on are time sensitive. I think I took it late a couple times that week Gavi was sick. I was so distracted and worried.” I shrugged helplessly.

  “We aren’t ready for another baby, Lydia. I thought we would talk about it first, plan. I…I’m so not ready to go there with you.”

  I wondered if I’d misunderstood everything. I was so shaken by all he said, I could barely process it. Nothing made sense to me anymore.

  It was late, and I was overly emotional. I needed to marinate on all I’d seen. There were still more videos, I was sure of that, but I just…couldn’t. Not tonight. I put the SD cards in the drawer beside my bed. For the heck of it, I went into Gavin’s music and found a playlist called “Wifey.” The first song on the list was “The Reason” by Hoobastank, and I thought it was fitting. I turned off the lights, left the music to play, and fell asleep to the playlist meant for me.

  The day after that, things began to get hectic. My house had been up for sale for only a week, and I already had an offer. That was unexpected. Not that it was a bad house—at least, nothing like it had been when Gavin and I first purchased it—but there were nicer, more updated homes in the neighborhood. Marco said most of the work that needed to be done was cosmetic since he’d had all the plumbing fixed and replaced the hot water heater when the ceiling was being repaired. The house was also close to the schools, parks, and close enough to the city center to be convenient, but far enough to avoid all the excitement. Also, according to Marco, the housing market in Columbus was doing very well. People were looking to buy, even though it was during a time when sales would normally be down.

  I declined that first offer, and the one that came after it, but a fire had been lit under my ass. The last thing I wanted was to get a good buyer and then scramble to move out in a month. I’d been taking my time, but, it was best for us if we moved sooner rather than later. It was bad enough starting the kids in a new school, in a new state to boot, more than halfway through the year. It wouldn’t be fair to them to start them too much later, and the apartment was okay, but it wasn’t home. We still felt like nomads. My kids needed a home, and I had already made the decision that home would be the cabin, and they couldn’t wait to get there. Also, I still had Sofia to consider. I knew she would be better once we moved, so I had to stop dicking around.

  I watched dozens of videos over the next few days, some meant for me, and some Gavin recorded with the kids or for other purposes. There were hundreds of pictures to look through, too, and many of those were of me.

  A week after I saw the first video, I put the last SD card in. I had refrained from doing it sooner because I’d been afraid. I knew this card would most likely contain videos and pictures closer to the end of Gavin’s life. It was late and I was alone in my room, like I always was when I took this dive into the past. Like on the other memory cards, I found several videos and a lot of pictures, but only two of the videos were for me specifically.

  In the first one, Gavin looked directly into the camera and smiled. Wow, that smile was a knockout. He’d always had a sexy smile.

  “You looked really beautiful today. You’re beautiful every day. I don’t tell you that enough. When I said it today, you looked surprised, and I felt like an ass. If I complimented you more, you wouldn’t be surprised. I don’t do it enough, so before I go any further, I will say it again. Lydia, you’re beautiful, and you looked especially beautiful today.”

  I stopped the video and jumped back to the pictures. He’d taken several photos of me that day, most of them without me knowing. I remembered the occasion because we’d been in Cincinnati for the wedding of one of his former coworkers. I’d had on my usual black dress, the same one I’d worn weeks later that had to be cut off me after the accident. I’d worn a short, sheer black cardigan over it, some flashy costume jewelry around my neck and on my wrists, and red heels. My nails had been painted red to match my shoes, and my hair had been pulled back in a simple, but tight pony.

  I looked at those pictures for several minutes, feeling like I barely recognized that woman. She’d been healthy, and active, and able to prance about in high heels, but then, she’d also been jaded, insecure, and sad. That woman didn’t think she was loved, but I was learning that she’d most likely been wrong. I wish I could tell her, and that she could hear me, and make different choices.

  Swallowing the small ball of emotion in my throat, I went back to the video and fast forwarded to where I’d left off.

  “I thought you would like to know my therapist’s theory for why I can’t seem to open up to you, and why I am sometimes an asshole without meaning to be. I had to shut down and put my feelings aside after Anna died and Lily was out of it. You know that already. I’ll never recover from losing Anna, and although I know she couldn’t help it, Lily’s depressive state was hard on me. I often found myself getting angry and hostile with her. Brenda calls that expressed emotion. She said it’s the negative reaction of a caregiver who is emotionally involved. When I felt like I was being hard on Lily, I tried to keep my distance, but then I would feel guilty for keeping my distance. That was a never-ending cycle, and that’s not even the whole of it.

  “I was affected by her depression, but I didn’t know until recently just how much I was affected. I thought my fatigue was from school, work, and taking care of her, but it was more than that. I was mentally and emotionally drained all the time. I was constantly worried, unfocused, and had this huge sense of helplessness. I felt guilty, like I’d made her that way, or it was my fault Anna died. I often had headaches, too. The doctor said people don’t just bounce back after all of that. It takes time, and in many cases, therapy or even medication. Being around someone who is extremely depressed can cause emotional damage.

  “When I moved back to Ohio without Lily, I told you before I felt like I could breathe again, but I was still…damaged. I still hadn’t recovered from any of it, and Lily’s suicide attempt was traumatic. It was trau
matic for all of us, but the doc believes I may have PTSD from the experience. None of anything I said is an excuse for why I haven’t treated you well in these past few years, but…things are beginning to make sense to me. I am beginning to understand so many things now. Between my therapy appointments and possibly some medication in the future, there might just be some hope for me after all.”

  His head bowed and he pushed a hand through his hair. When he looked at the camera again, there was fear in his eyes.

  “I hope you will forgive me someday, Lydia. I hope you will give me another opportunity to give you all you deserve.”

  The video ended, and before I moved on to the next one, I needed a couple minutes. That had been a lot of information, and like Gavin said, things were beginning to make sense.

  I went to the last video with anxious flutters in my chest. This was most likely the last one he had ever done for me.

  “Happy anniversary, babe,” he said, looking at the camera with that grin.

  I paused the video, almost afraid to go on. There was no doubt it was the last video because it was the day of our anniversary, just hours before my choices changed our paths. It took a lot more nerve than I’d like to admit to push play again and start from the beginning.

  “Happy anniversary, babe. I am excited and nervous. I’m excited because I have a surprise for you during dinner. We’ve done a lot of cool stuff together as a family—camping and road trips—but I think we deserve a few days just for us. My parents are going to watch the kids while I take you…to…” He rummaged around in his work bag and then presented two airline tickets to the camera. “The US Virgin Islands!” He shrugged self-consciously. “Yeah, I know it’s not that exciting. I would’ve loved to have taken you somewhere more…I don’t know…somewhere more, but you don’t have a passport. Anyway, I hope it’s good enough.”

  He shifted nervously and rubbed his hands together. It was something he’d done when he was anxious, and I’d forgotten about it.

  “So, I told you I was nervous, too. That’s because…at dinner, I’m going to tell you about therapy, and invite you to some sessions with me. Also, when you’re ready…I’m going to show you these videos. I don’t know if I’m exactly ready for that or not, but I might never be ready. I still have a lot of work to do on myself, a lot to fix. I know I’m still…hard to be around sometimes, and I’m sorry. I am trying really hard, babe. I don’t want to lose you. I love you, and I love our family. So, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  I watched it again, and again, and again. My tears blurred my vision every time, but I kept pushing play, kept restarting that video. I cried quietly but so hard that it made my entire body ache with each sob.

  Almost from day one, I had made Gavin into a villain, but he’d been in distress, and I’d been too selfish to see past my own problems to realize it. I’d constantly considered how he was treating me, how he had neglected me, how he didn’t give me attention, or how he compared me to Lily. Me, me, me. What a selfish bitch I’d been.

  I thought I’d forgiven him before for perceived injuries, but that wasn’t exactly true. Almost every bad thing that happened in my relationship with Marco, especially in the beginning, I’d compared to my relationship with Gavin, making him out to be the worst kind of person. For the first time ever, as I sat there on my bed with videos of his face and the sound of his voice in my ears, my forgiveness was complete. I granted him the absolution he should’ve had all along, but he was gone forever, and no matter how wretchedly sorry I was, my forgiveness for my own sins would never be granted.

  It was less punishment than what I deserved.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Cora, go change right now.”

  She stopped halfway down the steps and pouted. Her little chest heaved, preparing her for the argument I saw coming. “But Mooooooom!”

  “I told you that you couldn’t wear that dress today.”

  “But I waaaaaant to! I wore this to the ball with Marco so it’s my favorite!”

  I put a hand on my hip—the same hip that was filling out at an alarming rate. “You’ve already worn it to school twice this week. Give it a rest.”

  She let out a whiny sound and looked over the banister to Marco, who was putting breakfast on the table. “Please? You said I could wear it as much as I wanted to.”

  Since he was clearly wrapped around her finger like a tangled piece of string, he capitulated with a smile. “Of course you can wear it, piccolino.”

  “Yay!”

  She ran down the steps, flew past me like I didn’t matter, and went to hug her freakin’ hero. I shook my head and went to the kitchen to get the orange juice from the fridge. Cora settled in at the table beside Sofia in a pile of ice blue tulle and silk, the ridiculously elaborate dress Marco had purchased for her for their date several weeks ago. Although she had looked adorable, she’d also reminded me of one of those pageant girls, which always freaked me out. Seeing her prance around in the dress at home was one thing, and even wearing it to school once may have been acceptable, but she’d worn it several times since starting her new school.

  “Don’t do that,” I muttered to Marco when I entered the kitchen.

  He glanced away from the sizzling bacon in the pan and met my eyes. “Don’t do what?”

  “Override me like that. I told her she couldn’t wear it again.”

  He pointed tongs at me, one brow raised. “You overrode me. I told her last night she could wear it again.”

  I sighed noisily. “Why? Her teacher is going to think she’s weird, or that we can’t afford to clothe her in anything else.”

  “Or, her teacher will think she is a child, which she is. Let her just be a little girl, Lydia.”

  I rolled my eyes and went to sit at the table. We’d made the move to the cabin a little more than two weeks ago, right after the daddy-daughter thing. Although we were still getting acclimated in many ways, I was relieved and a little amazed at how quickly the house became like home. It could’ve been because Marco made sure to move our things in gradually and by the time we got there, we had all of our favorite familiar items already, or it could’ve been because we had always been very comfortable there. The first time I saw it with its blend of rustic and modern décor and architecture, I had loved it. Many times, I’d imagined myself ensconced there, with the woodburning fireplaces, cozy furniture, and views of the lake and woods.

  The kids had settled immediately. I thought starting a new school so late and all the changes would’ve had a negative impact, but they handled it like champs. In fact, in just the small amount of time that we were there, they began to thrive, more than I could ever remember.

  They weren’t the only ones doing well. Sofia loved being around her brother. She’d also been to the city with him on several occasions and explored while he worked. He didn’t necessarily like her going out alone, but I reminded him that the girl had traipsed all over Milan, Rome, London, and Paris without parental supervision. She could handle New York. Although she still missed her family in Italy, she was no longer so homesick that it brought her to tears on a nightly basis.

  “Amanda.” Marco’s warning voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I glanced over at my youngest child.

  Her face was innocent, but in her little hand were pieces of waffle. I could see the sticky syrup glistening on her skin.

  She blinked at him. “Huh?”

  He shook his head slowly. “Do not do it.”

  She looked at her hand, then at her brother, who was leaning away from her, eyes wide, before looking back to Marco. Finally, I understood what he caught her about to do.

  Gavi glared at his sister. “You’re a terrible stinky baby!”

  That did not go over well.

  “No, Gabbee!” Mandy shouted, obviously insulted, and then she threw the mushy mess at him.

  “Amanda!” Marco chastised, getting up from his chair.

  Gavi got up, too, trying to shake the stickiness off his clothes. His
face was red with fury. “Why are you such an evil baby?”

  Marco pulled Mandy out of her chair. “You are finished, young lady. Time out.”

  He carried her like a sack of potatoes to a small chair in the kitchen by the pantry door. It was the timeout chair that became necessary when we were still in Ohio. My daughter was sweet half of the time, the other half she was…well, the type of pretty little girl who threw syrupy waffles at her brother.

  “No, pwease,” she begged as he placed her in the chair.

  He knelt in front of her and spoke quietly. I couldn’t hear what he said, but her bottom lip poked out as she listened. When he walked away, she stayed, which wasn’t something she did for me.

  Gav went upstairs to change. Marco began to clear the table and Sofia helped Cora with her coat, hat, and gloves. I sat at the table sipping my hot tea and staring blankly at my daughter while she twisted around in the seat, unable to keep still. Her little strawberry-blonde eyebrows were drawn down as if she’d been treated very grievously.

  “Are you okay?” Marco paused next to me.

  I blinked up at him. “We are having two more. What if they are like Mandy? What if we have three kids like Mandy?”

  He shrugged. “We pack them all up and send them to my mother.”

  I smiled. It was the first time he’d made me smile since Italy. That wasn’t lost on either of us, because for a few seconds he stood there and stared at me and I stared back. Then I remembered how he’d made me feel, and how I wasn’t over it and didn’t know if I ever could get over it, and I looked away.

  A few minutes later, Mandy was released from solitary confinement, and Marco and the kids were about to leave. Unless he needed to be in the city earlier or had to go out of town, he drove them to the end of the lane and waited for the bus in the warmth of the vehicle. Once the kids were on their way, he headed to work.

  Gavi had changed his clothes and put on his coat and the sunglasses I’d given him that had belonged to his dad. He wore them every day now, even when it wasn’t sunny out. It always made me ache in a strangely happy way. He looked so much like his father when he had them sitting on top of his head.