Chapter 4: The Letters She Never Let Me Read
For several seconds, I couldn't hear anything except the blood rushing in my ears.
My mother stood a few feet away in her burgundy dress, her expression carefully composed. Marcus remained beside her, looking from Vanessa to Daniel as though he had just realized he had walked into a conversation that had started long before he entered our lives.
Daniel held my diploma cover against his chest.
His thumb moved repeatedly along its edge.
It was the same nervous habit he'd had for as long as I could remember. When I was little, he'd rubbed the seam of his work trousers whenever he was worried about money. When I left for college, he'd folded and unfolded a grocery receipt while pretending he wasn't afraid of the distance between us.
Now he was doing it again.
"Dad," I whispered, "what did she mean?""
He glanced toward the rows of seats.
"Not here, sweetheart.""
My mother let out a quiet breath.
"Of course. Not here. It's never the right time when the truth makes him uncomfortable.""
Daniel turned toward her.
"Vanessa, please.""
"No."" She shook her head.
"You've had years to tell her. If you're finally going to do it, you can do it in front of me.""
I stared at her.
"You just told me someone kept him from reaching me. Who?""
Her jaw tightened.
"I think you should hear both sides before you decide who to blame.""
"Then tell me your side.""
For the first time that morning, she seemed unable to find an immediate answer.
Marcus stepped closer.
"Vanessa, let's get some air.""
She ignored him.
Daniel finally spoke.
"After the divorce, I had visitation rights. Every other weekend, Wednesday evenings, and alternating holidays. We agreed on it in writing.""
I frowned.
"Mom told me you didn't want the schedule.""
"I never said that.""
"She said you wanted to start over. That you needed time to figure out your life.""
Daniel swallowed.
"I wanted to see you every day.""
His voice cracked on the last word.
He looked away, embarrassed by the emotion, but I reached for his free hand.
"Keep talking," I said.
He nodded.
"The first few months were difficult. Your mother and I disagreed about almost everything. But I kept showing up.
I picked you up from school when I was supposed to. I called on Wednesdays. I sent you birthday presents.""
"I remember the presents.""
"Do you remember the red bicycle?""
I smiled faintly.
"The one with the basket?""
He nodded.
"I saved for that bicycle for six months.""
My mother interrupted.
"You bought that bicycle after you missed her birthday.""
Daniel looked at her.
"I missed her birthday because you changed the pickup time without telling me.""
"I sent you a message.""
"After the time had passed.""
"You could have called.""
"I called eleven times.""
My stomach tightened.
Eleven times.
I remembered that birthday. I'd sat on the living-room floor in a pink dress, staring at the window while my mother told me Daniel had other plans.
I remembered asking whether he'd forgotten me.
She had hugged me and said, "Sometimes people show you who they really are.""
Daniel took a shaky breath.
"After that, I started keeping records. Every call. Every visit. Every time I arrived and nobody answered the door.""
"Why didn't you tell me?"" I asked.
"Because you were a child. I didn't want you caught between us.""
My mother gave a humorless laugh.
"You make it sound so noble.""
Daniel's face hardened.
"It wasn't noble. It was the only way I knew to protect her.""
He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his phone.
His fingers moved slowly across the screen before he found what he was looking for.
"I kept copies of the messages.""
He turned the phone toward me.
There were dates, times, and short exchanges. Some showed him asking whether he could pick me up. Others showed him confirming visits that had never happened.
A message from my mother read: Sophie has plans. Please don't come.
Another said: She doesn't want to see you right now.
I read the words twice.
"Did I say that?""
Daniel shook his head.
"Not to me.""
My mother folded her arms.
"You were too young to understand what was happening.""
"That doesn't answer the question.""
She looked at me sharply.
"You were having a hard time adjusting to the divorce. I was trying to give you stability.""
"By telling him I didn't want to see him?""
"I was trying to protect you from confusion.""
"From what confusion?""
Her eyes flashed.
"From a man who couldn't accept that our marriage was over!""
The words echoed through the nearby rows.
A couple seated several feet away glanced toward us before quickly turning back to their belongings.
Marcus touched my mother's elbow.
"Vanessa, lower your voice.""
She pulled away.
"Don't tell me what to do.""
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
Then he said something that made my hands go cold.
"There were letters, too.""
I looked at him.
"What letters?""
"Letters I sent you.""
He spoke carefully, as if every word had to be lifted from somewhere painful.
"After the phone calls stopped getting through, I wrote to you. I sent birthday cards. Christmas cards. Letters telling you about my job, asking about school, reminding you that I loved you.""
"I never received any.""
"I know.""
He paused.
"I kept copies.""
My mother stared at him.
For the first time, her composure visibly faltered.
Daniel noticed.
So did I.
"Mom?""
She glanced toward the auditorium doors.
"Sophie, this isn't the place to dig up every ugly thing that happened between two adults.""
"Then why did you tell me to ask him?""
She didn't answer.
Daniel continued.
"The first letters came back to me. The address was marked incorrect, even though I knew you still lived there. Then the letters stopped coming back. I assumed your mother had changed the arrangements.""
"Why didn't you contact a lawyer?""
"I did.""
My mother went rigid.
Daniel's eyes remained on mine.
"I couldn't afford to keep fighting. I was paying child support, rent, and legal fees. I worked overtime whenever I could. Every time I tried to arrange a visit, something changed.""
"But you kept trying?""
"Yes.""
The answer came immediately.
No hesitation. No qualification.
Just yes.
My throat tightened.
"Then why did you stop calling?""
Daniel looked down at his phone.
"Because I received a message from your mother's number saying you had asked not to hear from me anymore.""
I shook my head.
"I never said that.""
"I know that now.""
"What did the message say?""
He hesitated.
My mother stepped forward.
"Daniel, don't.""
He looked at her.
"You wanted her to know.""
"I wanted her to understand that divorce is complicated.""
"No. You wanted her to think I abandoned her.""
Her face reddened.
"You don't know what I wanted!""
"I know what you did.""
For the first time, Daniel's voice rose.
He immediately lowered it again, glancing at me.
"I'm sorry.""
"Don't apologize," I whispered.
He turned his phone toward me once more.
"There was one message I couldn't explain. It said you were doing better without me. That you were embarrassed by me and didn't want your friends to know I was still around.""
I felt physically sick.
"I would never have said that.""
"I know, sweetheart.""
He said it with such certainty that my eyes filled.
He had known me when I was small enough to believe that every mistake meant I was a bad person. He had known me when I was frightened of sleeping alone, when I wanted to become a veterinarian, when I changed my mind every six months about what kind of adult I would be.
He had known the real me.
And someone had convinced him that the real me wanted him gone.
I turned toward my mother.
"Did you send that message?""
She stared at me.
"Your father and I both said things we regretted.""
"Did you send it?""
"I was trying to make a difficult situation manageable.""
"That's not an answer.""
Her lips pressed together.
Marcus looked at her.
"Vanessa?""
She shot him a warning glance.
Then she turned back to me.
"I thought you needed a clean break.""
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"A clean break from Daniel?""
"From the conflict. From the arguments. From the constant reminders of a marriage that was over.""
"But you didn't have to make him believe I hated him.""
"I didn't make him do anything.""
Daniel gave a small, bitter laugh.
"You told me my daughter didn't want me.""
"And you believed me!""
The silence that followed was devastating.
Because she was right about one thing.
Daniel had believed her.
Not because he thought I was capable of cruelty, but because he thought a father should respect his child's wishes, even when those wishes hurt.
He had trusted the person who still lived with me.
And she had used that trust to keep us apart.
I turned back to him.
"Why didn't you come to my school? Why didn't you ask my teachers? Why didn't you find another way?""
He looked at me with red-rimmed eyes.
"I tried. I went to your elementary school once, but they told me they couldn't release you without authorization. I didn't want to frighten you by appearing unexpectedly. Then your mother threatened to take me back to court if I kept showing up.""
"You could have fought harder.""
The words escaped before I could stop them.
Daniel flinched.
I immediately regretted saying them.
But he didn't defend himself.
He nodded slowly.
"You're right.""
That hurt more than an argument would have.
"I should have found another way," he continued.
"I should have fought longer. I should have kept trying until you were old enough to ask me yourself.""
He wiped his face.
"I was tired, Sophie. I was ashamed that I couldn't make things work. And I was afraid that if I kept pushing, I'd make your life harder.""
He looked at the diploma cover in his hands.
"I told myself that staying away was the kindest thing I could do.""
My tears finally fell.
"It wasn't.""
"I know.""
He didn't ask me to forgive him. He didn't blame my mother for every decision he'd made.
He simply stood there, carrying the weight of the years we'd lost.
I stepped forward and hugged him again.
He held me tightly, the diploma cover pressed safely between us.
"I never stopped loving you," he whispered.
"I know, Dad.""
Behind us, my mother made a small, impatient sound.
"This is ridiculous. You're making me look like some kind of monster.""
I pulled away from Daniel.
"No one is making you look like anything.""
She stared at me.
I wiped my cheeks.
"I'm just finding out what happened.""
My mother looked toward Marcus, apparently expecting him to rescue her from the conversation.
He didn't.
Instead, he asked Daniel a question.
"Do you still have those letters?""
Daniel nodded.
"Every one I could keep.""
Marcus's gaze moved to my mother.
"Then maybe Sophie should read them.""
Vanessa's face drained of color.
And I realized something.
Marcus wasn't simply uncomfortable with the scene anymore.
May you like
He had recognized something in my mother's reaction.
Something that suggested the letters weren't the only things she had kept from me.