Chapter 15
Gabriel was six months old when I received the last letter I would ever get from my parents.
It was from George.
But it was different from the others.
It wasn't begging for forgiveness.
It wasn't blaming anyone.
It was just... tired.
Emily,
I'm dying. Lung cancer. The doctors say I have maybe six months. I don't expect you to care. And I don't blame you if you don't. I just wanted to say goodbye.
I've spent a lot of time thinking in here. About my life. About the choices I made. About the family I destroyed. I was a weak man, Emily. I let Patricia run that house. I let her turn Megan into a monster. I let her push you away. And I went along with it because it was easier than fighting. Because I didn't want to deal with the conflict.
I should have protected you. I should have loved you the way you deserved. I should have been a father to you. But I wasn't. And I have to live with that. Or die with it, I guess.
I heard about your foundation. About the book. About your children. I'm proud of you, Emily. In my own way, I always was. I just never had the courage to say it.
I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't expect you to come see me. I just wanted you to know that I finally understand what I lost. And I'm sorry. More than you'll ever know.
Goodbye, Emily. Be happy. You deserve it.
Dad
I read the letter.
I didn't cry.
I didn't feel anger.
I just felt a deep, profound sadness.
Not for George.
But for the father I had never had.
For the relationship that could have been.
For the little girl who had spent her whole life waiting for her father to love her.
Nathan found me holding the letter.
"Another one?"
"From my father. He's dying. Cancer."
Nathan sat beside me.
"What do you want to do?"
I thought about it.
I thought about going to see him.
About saying goodbye.
About finding closure.
But then I thought about everything.
About him blocking the door.
About him letting me bleed on the floor.
About him framing Nathan.
About him paying people to cover up Megan's crimes.
About him never once, in thirty years, standing up for me.
I thought about Hope and Gabriel.
About the kind of parent Nathan and I were trying to be.
The kind of parent who would always protect their children.
Who would always love them.
Who would never, ever choose one over the other.
And I realized something.
I didn't owe George a goodbye.
I didn't owe him closure.
The little girl who had wanted her father's love was gone.
She had died on that living room floor, along with her baby.
The woman I was now had a new family.
A real family.
And my energy and love belonged to them.
Not to a dying man who had wasted his entire chance to be my father.
"I'm not going to see him," I said.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. He had thirty years to be my father. He chose not to. A deathbed apology doesn't change that. And I have a husband and two children who need me. They're my family now. They're the ones who matter."
Nathan kissed my forehead.
"I'm proud of you."
I threw the letter away.
And I never thought about George again.
He died four months later.
I found out from a reporter who called.
"Mrs. Parker, your father passed away this morning. Do you have any comment?"
"No comment," I said.
And I hung up.
I didn't go to the funeral.
I didn't send flowers.
I didn't even tell my children about him.
They didn't need to know.
He was a stranger to them.
Just as he had been a stranger to me.
Patricia wrote one more letter after George died.
She was alone now.
Megan was in a different part of the prison, paralyzed and bitter.
George was dead.
She had no one.
Her letter was desperate.
Begging.
I threw it away without reading it.
And I never heard from her again.
The Collins family was gone.
May you like
Completely.
And I was finally free.
