Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
“Over the years, I lost him bit by bit and I didn’t realize it. After Charles died, I needed my son back. I needed myself back. I was so lonely, and I hated myself for it. But Madox didn’t want anything to do with me. I know he blames me, and he doesn’t forgive me. I understand that, because I can’t forgive myself either.
“It’s only gotten worse over the years, but there was one moment, one morning where I did something, and immediately after Madox changed entirely. He became … a shell of a man. That was three years ago, Sophie. I think you know what I’m referring to.”
A chill flows through my body and the hairs at the back of my neck stand up. Wiping away the tears from under her eyes, Adrienne composes herself as she speaks.
“When this branding and design company came to me with a proposition to back them a few months ago, I knew it was a good investment to make. They had one condition that caught my eye. They wanted a new hire, one of four potential people. And your name was listed.”
My body trembles as I try to stay focused. That day three years ago. What did she do?
“You earned your position, dear, I promise you that. Your name was at the top of the short list, but I made sure they hired you. I wanted you because I knew your name. I had it etched into my memory.” It takes everything in me to stay calm as she tells me what she did. It changed my life forever.
“Three years ago, I wanted my son to talk to me. To sit down at the same table as me. I wanted him to know that I loved him, and to care about me in return. But he didn’t. He never wanted to see me. I went to his room and he wasn’t there, but his phone was. And on his phone was a message from a girl he must have been dating.”
“Oh my God,” the words slip from me without conscious consent. An excruciating pain tears through me. I spent years thinking Madox didn’t care. I would have sworn on the Bible that he’d seen it.
He never answered me, because he never saw the text. It was her. His mother. I struggle to breathe as Adrienne continues.
“I deleted the message without thinking twice, but I didn’t see the name it was from until after it was gone. I knew your name from that list and I had it memorized because I had to look up the number that belonged to that contact from his phone. He only put, ’love her’ as your name, Sophie. My son loved you, and I was willing to sweep you aside so I could have him back.”
“You… you have no idea what that did to me.” It’s hard to contain every emotion running through me.
“I knew I’d made a mistake, and I didn’t want him to hate me any more than he already did. I spent years trying to figure out how to make it right, Sophie.” There’s a note of entitlement in her voice, a strength that she isn’t to blame for everything. And she’s not. If Madox and I could have had a fucking conversation back then, a true meaningful one, the last three years could have been different.
I tried. In the last moments I had here, I tried.
And she stole it from me.
It never occurred to me how much I needed him back then. I didn’t let myself think about it because I thought he truly didn’t care if I’d stayed or left.
“I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know how much you two loved each other. I’m sorry. All I’m doing now is begging for your forgiveness. From both of you. It took me years to realize it and even then, I didn’t want it to be true. That I’d done that to my son. You left, and he was never the same. Not until now. I made a mistake. More than one, and I’m so sorry.
“Please forgive me. If I could go back, I swear I would. I’m trying to make it right.” Her tone is placating at best, mostly forceful though, and I can’t respond. I never thought she was my friend, she was only a woman who had given me a chance, but I still feel betrayed.
None of it matters, because I remind myself, Madox loves me.
“I forgive you, but you need to tell Madox.” My voice is eerily calm, disconnected from her pain, and it feels underserving. She’s suffering; it’s easy to see. But she’s done this to herself, and I don’t know that there’s a way to get out of it. The hole she’s dug is so deep.
“I just want my son to forgive me. I can’t live like this. I want to love him and for him to know that I love him. I’m trying, Sophie. I promise you I will do anything to make it right.”