“That’s eighteen years of alimony, Charles,” I said coldly. “Not by court order, but by private agreement. You say you care? Well, prove it.”
He grimaced, but was wise enough not to protest.
“I’ll pay,” he said after a long pause.
Envelope on the table | Source: Midjourney
Envelope on the table | Source: Midjourney
“Okay,” I stood up and grabbed my purse. “Then, and only then, will we talk about whether Susie wants to see you again.”
He didn’t chase me. He didn’t fight. He simply nodded in resignation, and his eyes showed his acceptance of the lost years.
Months passed, seasons changed.
Charles paid for everything, without any excuse.
Susie began calling him more often. What began as a cool, hesitant exchange gradually softened. Their conversations stretched from minutes to hours. Sometimes I heard him laugh, at first awkwardly, then more naturally, more freely.
Laughter. It hadn’t been mentioned for so long.
Finally, the inevitable happened. They met face to face.
Smiling Teenager | Source: Midjourney
Smiling Teenager | Source: Midjourney
It wasn’t a meeting filled with tears and apologies. No, it was calm. Cautious. Father and daughter sat across from each other in cafés or ice cream parlors that held no memories. They chose places that wouldn’t remind them of the years they missed.
They talked. At first, about small things. School. Music. Books.
Then, deeper matters. I stayed behind, watching from the sidelines. Protective. Cautious. But strangely relieved.
Susie asked her some tough questions. She wasn’t afraid for a moment.
“Why did you leave?”
“Did you love Mom?”
“Were you thinking about us?”
I never asked what he said. I was never to know. This road, winding and full of potholes, belonged to them.
