The Atonement (The Arrangement, #3)(18)

“We can handle it.” Dylan’s voice was low. He thought he was prepared for anything.

“Your father and I are taking some time apart.” I’d never uttered anything as painful as that sentence. I watched the weight of it wash over my children, as real as if I’d told them someone had died. I guess, in a way, someone had. The family we’d once been would never be whole again. “I’m sorry to tell you this way. I wanted to handle it so much better than this. But I can’t keep hiding it from you anymore.” I rubbed Maisy’s back as she stared at me, her expression vacant and haunted.

“So…you’re getting a divorce?” Riley asked, looking to his brother for assurance.

“Well, we haven’t made any decisions,” I offered. Then, not wanting to give them false hope, I added, “But, yes. Most likely, we’re going to be getting a divorce.”

“Why?” Maisy’s question was barely audible, a breath more than a word.

“Well, it’s…complicated. But I guess the simplest answer is that we both want different things right now.” Looking for guidance, I tried to replay every divorce conversation I’d ever seen on TV, any of which would be better than the divorce conversation I’d had with my mother as I watched my dad disappear down the driveway without a goodbye. He’s decided he doesn’t love us anymore, she’d said, simple as that. It was the only discussion we’d ever had about the subject, and it wasn’t until years later I found out it was my mother’s affair that had caused their marriage to unravel.

“The most important thing is that you understand how much your daddy and I love you. Because we both love the three of you so, so much. And none of this is your fault. We’ve just grown apart and…we tried to fix it every way we knew how, but it didn’t work. Nothing worked. And sometimes…” I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt the tear trailing down my cheek. I brushed it away quickly. “Sometimes things just don’t work out. Sometimes people are more broken together than they could ever be apart.”

“But if you still love each other…there has to be a way.” Glimmering tears trailed down Maisy’s pink cheeks.

“There’s not, honey. I wish there was, I really do.”

“So what does that mean?” Dylan asked. He was trying to be strong, maybe for his siblings, maybe for me. His voice was steady, cheeks pale, jaw locked tight. His hands formed fists in his lap. “What happens to us?”

“Well, what do you mean? Nothing happens to you.”

“Who will we live with? Do we get to decide?”

The question was a knife to my gut. From what I’d read in my late-night doom scrolling, they were old enough…what if they did get to decide? What if they chose Peter? What if—despite doing everything I’d done to protect my kids—what if I lost them anyway? What if I lost them because they chose to leave me?

I swallowed, dusting away another tear. “Is that, um, is that what you want?”

Dylan was slow to answer, not meeting my eyes. “I want to talk to Dad.”

“You will,” I promised. “You’ll get to. But right now, he’s away on a project, and we agreed it would be best if you stayed with me for the time being.”

“So, why are we here, then?” he asked. “Why can’t we go home?”

“We will. We’re just sorting a few things out.”

“It feels like we’re hiding.”

“We’re not hiding,” I lied. Now I couldn’t meet his eye.

“Can we talk to him? I’ve been trying to call him, but he isn’t answering,” Dylan said, lifting his phone and staring at the screen. I nodded, relieved that I’d had the forethought to block their father’s numbers from their phones and block the children’s numbers from his before we’d left for Florida. At the time, it had seemed silly. Just one more scenario for me to overthink. But now, I was incredibly grateful I’d taken the time to do it.

I forced a smile, unwilling to let the hurt I felt over the attempts to contact his father outweigh my relief that he couldn’t. “He’s working on a project in the mountains, and I don’t think he has great service. I’m sure he’ll call you as soon as he can.”

“What if he doesn’t?” He stood from the bed.

“What do you mean?”

“What if he doesn’t call? What if he doesn’t want to talk to us?” He couldn’t stop the tears that fell then, or the way his voice cracked as he asked the final question.

“Oh, sweetheart.” I stood, reaching out my arms for him, but he backed away.

“Just don’t.”

I dropped my arms, nodding slowly. “Dylan, your father would do anything to be here with you right now. You know that. We wanted to tell you together. He wanted to be here for you. This is… I know how hard it is for you, guys. Believe me, I do. It’s the last thing we ever wanted to do. I know how much it hurts—”

“Oh, save it, Mom—”

“I do. I know. I remember. We did everything we could to prevent this. I did everything I could—”

“Not everything, obviously,” he said with a shrug. “Because here we are. And, what do you know? It hurts all the same.” With that, he strutted toward the door and jerked it open.