Chapter 73

The smell of sizzling bacon pulled me from sleep, my senses immediately heightened by the familiar scent. Sloane and her father had woken me earlier so she could apologize, but I had gone right back to sleep after, still not fully awake.

I sat up in bed, momentarily disoriented before the events of the previous day and this morning flooded back into my consciousness. I grimaced, remembering the two glasses of wine and hot bath that made me feel just a little more buzzed than I was used to.

The hurt rushed back in, despite the apology I'd gotten in the wee hours of the morning. Maybe a good night's sleep did not make anything better. Graham and Sloane had gone to the concert without me, a fact that still stung despite my efforts to push the hurt aside. I knew I had to be the bigger person and all that, but inside, it still stung.

I cleaned up and slowly made my way downstairs to the kitchen, trying to remind myself I needed to look happy for them. Sloane was going to be eager to tell me all about it. She had apologized and had probably moved on. I was having a little more trouble with it apparently.

"Stop it," I murmured.

I was painting my daughter to be a vindictive person. I knew she wasn't like that. I was just bitter. Sloane got her little dig in and she had seemed genuinely apologetic. I needed to be happy for her. She got to experience something exciting with her dad. That was a big deal in her world. It was something she would remember for the rest of her life.

I walked into the sun-soaked kitchen to find Graham and Sloane bustling about, preparing a late breakfast with too much enthusiasm. They had returned home late last night and they had woken me up nearly at the crack of dawn.

"Morning, Mom," Sloane chirped, flashing me a bright smile as she flipped a pancake on the griddle.

"Morning, sweetheart," I replied, returning her smile with one of my own, though the edges of it faltered.

"Good morning," Graham said. "Again."

"Morning," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. I took a seat at the table. I wasn't really hungry, but I reminded myself I needed to be an adult.

Graham put a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me. Sloane carried the stack of pancakes to the table and sat down. I forced myself to pick up my fork and take a tentative bite. "Good." I nodded. "How was the concert?"

Despite my efforts to mask my true feelings, I could tell that Graham sensed my discomfort, his gaze lingering on me. I offered him a weak smile in return, hoping he wouldn't ask why I was a little down.

Sloane's face lit up. "It was a lot of fun," Sloane said. "But it would have been better if you were there."

That caught me by surprise. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Sloane blurted out. "It wasn't Graham's fault. He didn't know about our plan to go to my first concert together. I'm really sorry, Mom. It wasn't cool. I know I already said sorry and you already accepted it, but I still feel like a butthole."

It was a genuine apology and I believed her. She wasn't just saying it to say it. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me," I said quietly. "But it still hurts. I have feelings too."

Sloane's eyes were brimming with tears. "I'm so sorry, Mom," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn't think about how much it would mean to you. I just, well, I guess I thought it would be mean, but I didn't think about how mean."

"It's okay, Sloane," I replied, my voice tinged with sadness. "I know you didn't mean to."

We were both crying. I was both glad she was sad and sad that she was crying. No matter what she did, I never wanted her to hurt.

Graham watched us silently. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked, his voice gentle as he reached out to brush a stray tear from my cheek.

I shook my head. "I just need some time," I whispered, my voice trembling with unshed tears. "Alone."

Sloane nodded. "I am really sorry, Mom. We can do anything you want. Just me and you or all three of us."

"Thank you," I said. "I do appreciate you acknowledging how I feel. I didn't think it would hurt this much, but it does."

Sloane leaned down to give me a hug.

"Thank you, Sloane," I replied, my voice choked with emotion. "I appreciate it."

Sloane left the room. Graham watched me with concern and sympathy, his eyes filled with an unspoken understanding of the pain that gripped my heart.

"I'm sorry, Isadora," he said softly, his voice filled with remorse. "I wish there was something I could do to make this right. I swear, I had no idea. I would never do that to you."

I shook my head, the tears finally spilling over as I struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "It's not your fault, Graham," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just need some time to process everything. We're all out of our depth here. We have to learn how to navigate this new thing we have. I'm not used to sharing her. I know that is totally selfish and I don't mean to be that way, but I just forgot I'm not the only one that gets to be there for her first anything."

"I'll be here whenever you're ready," he said. "She is genuinely sorry. She was pretty upset when I talked to her last night. She was going to talk to you when we got back, but I told her to leave it alone."

"I'm glad you were able to get through to her," I said. "I just want some time alone. I need to lick my wounds."

"Just know that I love you, Isadora. And I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."

I got up and carried my half-eaten plate to the counter.

"I'll clean up," he said.

"I'm going to be out back," I told him.

I took my new book outside and stretched out on the lounge chair by the pool. The sun beat down on me, warming me but there was still a chill in my heart. I stared at the pages, but my thoughts kept circling back to the concert. The concert that should have been mine, ours, something to bond over with Sloane. But now it was a symbol of my own inadequacies, a reminder of how badly I hurt her by never telling Graham about her.

The backyard was silent except for the occasional splash of water from the pool and the whispering rustle of leaves in the wind. I closed my eyes and let myself be taken away by the gentle sounds of nature, trying to forget everything for a moment.

"Dora?"

I opened my eyes and saw Graham sitting in the chair beside me. "Yes?"

"I didn't know," he said. "I would have never gone if I'd known about your plans with Sloane."

"You didn't ask either," I replied, my voice tinged with bitterness despite my efforts to keep it in check. "I know I shouldn't be mad at you, but I can't help it. I was looking forward to taking Sloane to her first concert. She's been talking about that concert for a while."

Graham nodded, his expression pained as he looked down at his feet. "I understand, and I'm sorry. I should have checked with you before making any plans."

His sincerity tugged at my heartstrings, a small part of me wanting to forgive him despite the hurt that still lingered. But another part of me resisted, stubbornly clinging to my pain like a glutton for punishment.

"You're new to all this." I sighed. "But that's not an excuse. You should have checked with me. I'm guessing you didn't know who that band was. What if they were inappropriate for a kid her age?"

Graham's shoulders slumped in defeat. A pang of guilt washed over me at the sight of his dejected expression. Maybe I'm being too hard on him, too quick to assign blame for something that was ultimately a misunderstanding.

"For the record, I did Google them," he said. "That doesn't excuse it, but I did look to make sure they weren't bad."

"I know you would never do anything to put her in danger." I sighed. "But this isn't about danger, Graham. This is about understanding and respecting the boundaries. The little things we do, the moments we share with our loved ones, they matter. And you took that from me, from us."

"I know."

"You not only took Sloane to her first concert without asking me, but you also robbed me of the chance to see her excitement, her joy."

Graham was silent for a moment before he finally spoke, his voice soft and miserable. "I understand, Dora," he said.

"No," I said and sat up. "Don't be sorry. You should be saying that exact same thing to me."

"What?"

"I'm mad at myself because I now understand how you must have felt when you realized you had a daughter," I said. "When you didn't want to talk to me, I was upset. But now I get it. I've been put in a smaller version of your shoes. It really sucks. I'm sorry I did that to you."

"Isadora, we're past that."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm a mess. I'm hurt but I also feel terribly guilty."

"I've worked through it," he said. "I'm not mad at you."

"And I'm not really mad at you."

He smiled and got to his feet. "I'll let you come to me when you're ready," he said. "I understand if you need some time."

As he walked away, a part of me wanted to call out to him, to tell him that I was sorry for being so cold. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, the weight of my hurt was too heavy to bear. That and my pride.

Instead, I picked up my book once more, the words blurring before my eyes as tears threatened to spill over. Would forgiveness ever come as easily as I hoped it would?

Just as I began to lose myself in the story, I heard the door opening once more.

It was Sloane. "Mom, I never realized how much Graham loves you," she began. "It was all my fault. I shouldn't have made such a big deal out of it. I just want us to be a family."

"Sloane, honey, it's not your fault. We're all just trying to navigate this new chapter in our lives."

"But he really loves you," she said. "I don't want you to break up with him because of me."

"I'm not," I said. "I love him, too."

"If you can be happy with him, it would be a dream come true for all of us. We could be a real family. He told me that's what he wanted. He said even if you guys did break up, me and him were still good. But I don't think he's ever going to break up with you. The guy has loved you a really long time."

"I want that too, Sloane," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "More than anything. You come first, though. Graham and I know we have to put your feelings first."

"I'm good. I want you guys to be happy. I guess I didn't really understand how much you loved each other until Graham made me see it. I don't want to be the person that splits you up."

"We'll be okay," I told her. "I'm just pouting a little."

"He has something planned for you, Mom," she said with a knowing smile. "You should go talk to him."

"What do you mean?"

She grinned. "You'll have to talk to him to find out."

I watched as Sloane disappeared into the house, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more. What could Graham have planned for me now, I wondered. I supposed there was only one way to find out. I closed my book, abandoning any hope of getting it read. I got up and went inside the house. Sloane didn't say where he was going to be. He wasn't in the kitchen. I checked the living room and still didn't see him.

Games were really not something I had the energy for.