Soaring (Magdalene #2)(88)

This is what it feels like it might be…

Maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way as me.

And if he did, he needed to know, sooner rather than later.

No safer place than in my arms and when you’re here, Amy, you can give me anything.

I opened my eyes.

“I told you how things went with him and Martine.”

I felt his breath whisper along my ear, then his lips, before I felt his jaw again pressed to the side of my head.

“Yeah.”

I drew in a breath and let it out, saying, “When he left me, I lost it.”

“Within your rights, Amy.”

I stared at pure peace and beauty.

Then I decided this was important, Mickey was important, and I had finally grown up.

So there was a way this needed to go and I had to find the courage to make it go that way.

I did this, turning in his arms, lifting my hands to his biceps, and most importantly, catching his eyes.

“When I say I lost it,” I whispered when he was looking down at me. “I lost it, Mickey. Like, lost it. I went more than a little crazy. I was hurt and I wanted them to hurt so I made them hurt. I went out of my way to do it. I took every opportunity to do it and if there weren’t any, I created them. I did not do what I should have done, felt the pain, but powered through it for myself and my kids. I nursed it and fed from it and behaved selfishly, thoughtlessly, and worst of all, spitefully.”

“He f*cked and got engaged to another woman while he was married to you, babe. Again, within your rights,” Mickey told me.

“For three years?” I asked.

He didn’t even blink.

He asked back, “Is there a time limit for bein’ pissed about betrayal?”

“My kids saw it, Mickey.”

To that, he said nothing.

My heart pinched but I had to keep going.

“I should have shielded them from it. I can’t say it was frequently. But it was not rare. It happened at their school events. When Conrad would pick up the kids. When I’d pick them up. They should have never seen that. And what they didn’t see, they heard. I connived to find ways to get into it with Conrad and Martine, embarrass them, take my pain out on them. I went to Conrad’s practice. I went to the hospital where Martine worked. I wanted everyone to know what kind of people they were. In the end, it was only me I made a fool of.”

“How’d your kids know about that other shit?” Mickey asked.

“Eventually, as he went for more and more custody, Conrad shared it with them. Before they came here, they were old enough to speak with the judge and decide who they wanted to live with. I made it so they did not want to live with me.”

Mickey’s mouth got tight but he said through it, “He shouldn’t have done that, Amy.”

“I shouldn’t have given him the ammunition to do it, Mickey,” I returned and shook my head, looking to his shoulder, dropping my voice and admitting, “I don’t think you understand how bad I got. How ugly I was. Petty and stupid. He had no choice but to push things with me, and in the end, move across the country to make his family safe from my ugliness.”

When Mickey didn’t say anything, panic started leaking into me.

I lifted my eyes to his and assured urgently, “I know this is crazy. But that isn’t me anymore. If there’s a lesson to be learned, any mother will learn it when her children are taken from her. I learned it, Mickey. I fell into a pit of agony that I dug myself and allowed myself to drown in it, wanting to pull everyone down there with me. And I went to extremes to do that, taking my kids with me. I didn’t deserve to keep them because no good mother behaved like me. But the minute Conrad and Martine moved out here and took my kids with them, I knew something had to change. Months, I gave them, seeing my kids one weekend every four weeks, and I gave them that to give them a break from me. I did this planning to move out here, fix my relationship with the kids, heal my family so I could give my babies something that would be safe and healthy. So I went crazy, but I learned. I learned that was not me. That was someone else. But she was not me.”

When I stopped talking and he simply continued to stare down at me impassively, I turned my head and looked to the sea, knowing he thought I was a psycho bitch, a terrible mother, and if things went bad between us, he’d be treated to the same thing.

And I lived right across the street.

This was our beginning and our end just as I knew, when he’d learned the worst in me, it would be.

I clenched my teeth as the tears threatened, but I didn’t blame him.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t bleeding.

“You done?” he asked matter-of-factly.

My eyes shot to his.

“Yes,” I answered tentatively.

“Raised by nannies,” he stated strangely.

“I’m sorry?”

“Growing up, your parents give you anything?”

I knew what he was asking, shook my head, but said, “Well, they taught me I should act appropriately, which in this case was championing all my shenanigans because they also taught me a Bourne-Hathaway should demand to be treated a whole lot better than Conrad treated me.”

“A Bourne-Hathaway?”

“Mom’s a Bourne,” I told him then reluctantly kept the information flowing. “As in Bourne-Tran Freight and Shipping.”