“I did something stupid after that, Aubrey. It wasn’t about my infidelity. She constantly held over my head that she had control of the money. Without her, I wouldn’t have any. She knew where every penny went, so I couldn’t even put some aside to save. I’d reached my breaking point, not thinking about the consequences, only my need to hurt her. So, I took some money, knowing she’d find out and…I spent it. She used it against me, gave me the divorce, but made me agree to her terms.”

“Because you spent her money?” Something didn’t add up.

“It was what I spent the money on.”

“What…did you buy drugs or something?”

He let out a frustrated breath of air, and I thought for a moment he wouldn’t answer me, but then he did. “I spent it on a prostitute—a high-priced call girl. Your mother found out, like I knew she would, but instead of getting pissed about it, she used it against me. I was stupid and blinded by rage, so I never even considered the lengths she’d take to get back at me. And the only reason why she divorced me was because of her reputation. She didn’t want it to be tarnished by having a husband that paid for escorts.”

“Whatever, Dad. You made a dumb call. People do lots of things out of anger and desperation. Do I think it’s disgusting that you’d pay for sex? Yes. But I also see why you did it. Status and reputation consumes her motives. I get the need to hit her where it counts. But what I don’t get is why she wouldn’t let you take me with you? She hates me. She tells me all the time in subtle ways. Why would she want me here?”

“You just said it, Aubrey. Status and reputation fuel her every decision. How do you think it would seem if I got custody of you in the divorce? Mothers always get the kids. It would make her look bad if you came with me.”

“Okay, so that means you can’t come see me, either? Or call more than once a month?”

“Yes, and sort of,” he answered with an exhausted tone. “Moving out of the house wasn’t good enough for her. I had to move out of the county, out of her jurisdiction so my choices and lifestyle wouldn’t negatively impact her. I also wasn’t allowed to come near you—per her orders, not the court’s. She told me that if I came back to town, she’d find a way to have charges drawn up against me for solicitation of sex. I figured I’d go along with her terms until you were old enough to know the truth.”

“And when would that have been? When I’m thirty?” I argued back, the sense of betrayal burning hot on my tongue.

“No. I wanted to tell you last year, but I chickened out. What was I supposed to say? I’m already a failure in your eyes. Why make it worse? I hate the distance and time that separates us, and talking to you on the phone makes it worse. I’m a mess when I get off the phone with you, Aubs. A mess. I get in this funk that takes sometimes a week to get out of. And that’s just from a fifteen-minute conversation about nothing.”

My anger began to subside, and in its place, I found sympathy and surrender. My life had been made up of a series of bad decisions, starting with my parents’ neglect of proper birth control. My dad’s decision to marry my mom, even knowing how it would turn out, might have been noble, but it certainly wasn’t smart. He dropped out of school and ignored the giant crystal ball that told him his marriage would never last, all of which practically sealed his fate. Instead of letting him go and joining the ranks of many other successful, divorced, working women, she tightened the leash, knowing that at some point in time, he’d react. And he did.

All those decisions were out of my control, yet they directly impacted me to this day. It’s one thing to pave your own way, carve out your own destiny, but it’s something completely different when the actions of others determine your outcome. My mother has only ever been able to see one thing—her reputation. And when backed into a corner, my father only saw one thing—revenge. Not once during any of that time did either of them see me.

It became clear once again that I’d be the only one to ever look out for myself. I couldn’t rely on others, I couldn’t depend on anyone. Just me. But I’d be okay. I was a survivor, I’d managed to overcome so much already. Some things might be harder to conquer than others, some pain might take longer to heal, but in the end, I knew I’d survive.

“Thanks, Dad. I appreciate your honesty, and thank you for the birthday wishes. But I really think I need to go now.”

“Aubrey, you’re probably mad at me, and blame me for all this, and I don’t discredit those feelings at all. But please, do what you need to do in order to work through this—just don’t cut me out. Don’t dismiss me. Hearing your voice for fifteen minutes once a month isn’t much. I barely survive that, and I don’t think I can handle less. I know you don’t owe me anything, but please know that I love you. You’re honestly the best part of my life. I may not show that to you, and I’ve failed at keeping you safe, but it’s the truth.” If there was a way to feel another person’s heart breaking inside of your own chest, I felt it at that moment.

“I know, Dad. I love you, too. She can’t control us forever.”

He released a shaky sigh before saying goodbye, wishing me a happy birthday once more, and then he hung up the phone. I couldn’t move from my spot on the porch for a while, needing time to pull myself together. A lot of information, emotions, and guilt had been dropped in my lap, and I needed time to sort through them alone. I’d never be able to go to my mother and confront her with any of this. It would do no good. In fact, it would probably cause unnecessary harm. So I needed to work through my thoughts, sort out my feelings, and lay it all to rest before heading back inside.

If only dealing with my emotions regarding Axel could be that easy.

“What did you decide for dinner?” my mom asked as soon as I came back inside. She stood in the kitchen with her mug of coffee, and I couldn’t help but wonder how long she’d been standing there, or if she’d overheard my conversation with my dad.

“Meatloaf. It’s easy and one of my favorites.” I’d say I had tried to act normal around her, but there was no such thing. We’d gone over a month barely saying two words to each other, and then it was as if she decided to suddenly gift me with her kindness on my birthday. But now I knew so much more than I ever had about her, my dad, and their relationship. I wasn’t sure how to react to her now that her skeletons had been unveiled. I had just always assumed that my father had abandoned me because he didn’t care enough about me to remain in my life. Now I’d been hit with the news that he did care and had thought about me all these years. My mom had managed to assert the same control over him as she did over me. We were both prisoners in the hell my mom had created.

“Oh, that sounds good. Want me to make the glaze?” She immediately began to root through the cabinets for a bowl before pulling the ingredients from the fridge.

After watching her silently for a moment or two, I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Mom, this isn’t meant to be mean, but I have to ask…” I leaned my back against the counter so I could see her reaction. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Her hands stilled around the spoon she’d grabbed to stir the glaze. “It’s your birthday, Bree,” she said as if her answer was a given and my question had been absurd.

I wanted to back down, leave it at that. Arguing would never solve anything, especially with her. But everything I’d been through over the last two weeks, all the emotional turmoil, I couldn’t find the strength needed to drop it. “Yes, you’re right, Mom, it is. However, this isn’t the first one. I’ve had sixteen others. You’ve never been like this for any of those.” I steadied my narrowed gaze at her, almost daring her to answer.