too unsettled to talk to him. To hear his voice.
The alert breaks my silence, and I unlock my phone and listen to my voicemail.
“Ashley. It’s Clayton. I know I should wait until you let me know when we can talk. I know I have no right to ask if I can talk to you and ask to meet my son, but I’m asking and hope you can introduce us. I don’t want to cause any problems in your life. No. Not at all. Ashley, I’m back for good. I’m not leaving again. I know I left you before and I hurt you. I’m so sorry and I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life. You don’t trust me and I get it. I’m going to make you see how sorry I am and how much I want to meet my son and be in your life again. Please don’t shut me out.”
Chapter 13
Clayton
I reach for my phone to check the time.
Five in the morning.
I slept for six hours. It’s an improvement.
After I got home around ten thirty last night from the office, I took a quick shower and got into bed. I tossed my phone from side to side, wondering if I should’ve texted her and see how she was doing.
I’d always expected my parents to tell me there was a subpoena for a hearing for child support or signing over my rights as a father. It never came.
The screen on my phone is bright as I stare at her face. Thumbing the picture, taking in the memory of her, and regretting the moment I let her walk out of my life.
Sitting up on my bed, I turn and place my feet on my bedroom floor and walk toward the closet. Before opening the door, I take a deep breath and slowly turn the knob, staring at the box on the top shelf. Guilt threatens to rise like a tidal wave taking away everything in its path, pulling down anything in the way, drowning in the depth of its water. I send the guilt to the back of my throat and swallow it.
Reaching up and grabbing the box, I head back to my bed, lifting the cover and taking out the last memory of her.
Dear Clayton,
I hope this letter finds you well.
You’re probably wondering why I’m writing you this letter. I think a part of me is surprised I’m writing to you. I have so much I want to say to you. Maybe one day when our paths cross, we can get coffee and catch up. I’d love to see you again.
I know I’m not in a place to ask you for anything, and I promise I won’t ever ask you for anything. We never got to say goodbye. I guess this is my goodbye to you. Clayton, you changed my life. In the six months we were together, I was so happy and so in love. You taught me about life and happiness. You held me as I cried about my dad, and you helped me get through the long nights I had to work when I came home drained.
There’s no time when it comes to love. Sometimes when you know, you just know.
I’m never going to forget you, and I hope you find some meaning in your life. Be well, Clayton. Live well.
Maybe one day we’ll see each other again.
Ashley
This letter came a few months after I let her walk out the door. I keep it close to me and read it multiple times a day. I can recite the letter word for word. She didn’t bring up the pregnancy. I didn’t know if it was intentional or not.
I stare at the letter again and curse myself for never taking the time to write her back.
All I thought about was Ashley.
All I wanted was her.
Putting away the letter safely in the box, I close it and bring it back to the closet. Standing before it, I take a step back and shut the closet door. It’s a new day, and I need to get ready for work. I’m getting good at hiding my emotions and going through the day without letting anyone touch me. Pretending I’m not consumed by the memories of what could’ve been. By what I fucked up.
No.
I push it all aside and carry on with the day as if I’m not wondering where she is and what she’s doing. You’d think I’d do everything in my power to gain the courage to find her.
A