“If you’re reading this, then I ran out of time, Simone.
Your mother contacted me six months after she left. She said she wasn’t ready to come home, but she wanted to finish school. I thought that if she had a degree and a stable life, she might return ready to be your mother.
She didn’t.”
I stopped reading.
“I ran out of time, Simone.”
My throat tightened.
Mr. Lewis pushed a glass of water toward me.
I ignored it.
“Years later, I asked whether she wanted you during school breaks. She declined. I asked about regular visits. She said her life was too unsettled.
When she remarried, she agreed to a court order giving me sole custody.”
My throat tightened.
“She sent cards sometimes, but she never asked to speak to you.
I told myself I was protecting your heart. Maybe I was protecting mine too. I couldn’t stand the thought of watching you beg someone to choose you.
You had a right to know when you were old enough.
I kept waiting for the right day.
Then I ran out of days.”
I lowered the letter.
“I was protecting mine too.”
Dad had lied and decided what I could handle. Mr. Lewis didn’t defend him.
The remaining documents confirmed that Mom had agreed to a court order giving Dad sole custody and had declined the visitation schedule Dad requested.
No one had forced her away.
She had chosen distance. Dad had chosen silence. Both had decided what I could live without.
I picked up the photograph.
A name was written beneath Mom’s daughter.
Mr. Lewis didn’t defend him.
“I’m contacting her.”
Mr. Lewis stood. “Are you sure?”
“No.”
It was the first honest answer I’d given all day.
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