“It is something that I’ve struggled with,” I said. “I don’t want you to think that I haven’t felt guilty about it or wondered if I’m doing the right thing. What would I want to have happen if the roles were reversed? Of course I’d want to know. More than that—I’d want my kid back. So I’ve been giving it a lot of thought.” He took another sip of beer, then sighed. I could tell that this had been bothering him quite a bit. “And I’m not going to tell Sam, or his sister, or anyone in their family.”
I nodded. “I think that’s the right choice,” I said. “Or maybe not the right choice, but the best one, given the circumstances.”
“Because what would the outcome probably be? They’d try to get custody. I could lose him and never see him again, and Sam is in no condition to raise a child by himself. Even if... even if that whole thing hadn’t happened between him and I, he very well could still be using drugs. It’s just not the sort of environment that a child should be in.”
“It’s not,” I agreed. “And Declan loves you and is so happy with you.”
Cole sighed. “I feel like shit about it, though. Deep down, I do. The whole thing is so messed up. I’m just trying to do the best that I can now within the situation that we have to work with, but I know that some people would think it’s totally wrong to raise Declan as my own when his real father is alive and only a few hours from us.”
“You are his real father,” I said. “Don’t tell yourself for a second you aren’t. The issue isn’t so cut and dry. That’s what makes it so complicated. In a perfect world, your sister would still be alive, she and Sam wouldn’t have ever touched drugs, and they’d be raising Declan together, but that’s not the way things turned out.”
“I just wonder sometimes if, later on in life, he hates me for it.”
“I don’t think he’ll hate you for being the best dad for him that you could be. If you do one day decide to tell him, he’ll be old enough to realize that you only had his best interest in mind. It’s not like this is a walk in the park, raising kids. When you’re a parent, you’re not just there for the fun stuff and then you get to leave the responsibilities to someone else. It hasn’t been easy for you, either.”
Cole stared at me for a moment. “Thank you,” he said finally. “Thank you for saying that. I’ve never let myself really say that out loud before, how hard this can be. Because it makes me feel like shit to think that because I know that Declan is a really fucking good kid.”
“He is, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.”
He shook his head. “My life has just turned out so much differently than I thought it would. And I know it’s not a bad life by any means, so I feel bad even bringing it up in the first place.”
I went over and put my arms around him. He stood and put his face against my neck, and we stayed there like that for almost a minute. More than anything, I wanted to be able to take away whatever pain or guilt it was that he was feeling—I knew that he was doing what he thought was right; he was doing something that many people in his situation might not have, whether it was because they couldn’t or wouldn’t.
“Declan is so lucky to have you,” I said. “Anyone can see that he absolutely thinks the world of you. You have done right by him so far, Cole; don’t let yourself think that you won’t be able to continue to do so.”
“That’s all I really want,” he said. “I want him to have a good childhood and be prepared for whatever it is that life throws at him when he’s an adult.”
We had pulled back from the hug, though our arms were still around each other. Cole smiled. I smiled back, and I felt so happy standing there, his arms around me, our bodies pressed against each other, and I knew, without a doubt, that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Cole
It was actually a cool night, more like early fall than summer, so I started a fire in the pit, and Allie and I sat in the Adirondack chairs with our feet facing the flames. We were wearing sweatshirts, and our chairs were right next to each other, so we were able to hold hands as we watched the flames lick the sides of the fire pit.
“I should have bought marshmallows,” I said. “I feel as though I’m depriving you of an authentic Maine camping experience.”
“Next time,” she said.
When the fire started to get low, I added another log and a few smaller branches and poked at it with a bigger stick. There was some crackling, and I stirred the ashes, watching the embers glow bright and then fade to a darker orange. It had always mesmerized me, the way fire could reduce almost anything to ash, the way that ash could so easily get picked up and carried off by the wind, only to disintegrate when it finally came to rest. And, just like that, an object that was something wasn’t anymore. It was gone.
I put the stick down and looked over at Allie.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
I went inside, quietly going up the stairs. I peeked in on Declan, who was sound asleep in his bed, the covers kicked off at the bottom of the bed. I went in and pulled them back up over him and brushed a few strands of hair back from his forehead. Then I went into my room, into my walk-in closet. I got the shoe box and pulled the letter out. I stood there and read it.
I just don’t want to live anymore. I know that’s not the right thing
to say, the right way to feel, but it’s the truth. I’ve caused other
people so much pain, and I’m so tired. I hope you can forgive me
and not blame yourselves because there is nothing anyone could
say that would change my mind. All I ever wanted was to be happy,
but for some reason, despite all the privilege I was born into,