Chapter 35 of 52

Chapter 35

So It Goes1,216 words~7 min read

RUBY

~Could he be right?~

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~Is he?~

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~I’m not sure anymore.~

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~All I’m certain of is that I’ve lost my daughter.~

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~But did I really lose her?~

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~Can I get her back?~

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~And the real question—is it right for me to want her back? Do I deserve to be in her life?~

~

“What’s our next move?” I ask Peter.

“I’m not sure. But his words, they’ve stuck with me,” he replies.

“They’ve stuck with me too. I can’t figure out where we messed up. I know we were tough on her, but were we too tough?”

“I don’t know. I thought we were doing what was best for her.”

I shake my head, the weight of our actions sinking in. “Which part? The part where we kicked her out, or the part where we never supported her?”

“Ruby, don’t be so dramatic. It’s not like we abused her or let her go hungry,” Peter snaps back.

I shake my head again but choose to stay silent. I need to sort through my thoughts.

A few minutes later, we’re home. I head straight for the cupboard where I keep Anna’s photo album.

I pull out the small book.

~I thought it was bigger. I thought I had more photos of her.~

~

I sit on the couch, flipping through the pages. Anna’s smile in the photos brings a smile to my face. But when I get to her fourth birthday, there’s a picture of her with a bright smile, but her eyes tell a different story.

~What happened?~

~

I turn another page and find a picture from a small family vacation with our church group. She’s playing with the Statson boy.

~Or is she trying to get away?~

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I look closer and see tears on her cheeks.

~She’s scared. How did I miss this?~

~

I gather all the pictures where I feel like I overlooked something and put them in a pile. The pile grows larger.

Then I come across her prom picture. Her smile isn’t genuine, but I remember this day. She didn’t like the dress—she was worried about being bullied—but I brushed it off.

The next day she came home with tear-streaked cheeks, wearing different clothes, her ripped dress in her hands. I was so angry with her for ruining her dress.

But now, looking back, I wonder what really happened that night.

~Did I really miss all these signs?~

~

Then there’s the last picture I have of her. It was taken about three months before graduation, and you can see the small bump under her sweater.

She looked beautiful pregnant, but the sadness in her eyes is unmistakable. She looks defeated. Then it hits me—this is the picture we took two weeks after James left.

~God, she cried for days, but she still had to go to school.~

~

“Honey!” I call out. I can’t believe what we’ve done.

“In the kitchen!” he yells back. I gather all the pictures that raise questions and bring them to the kitchen.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

I shake my head. “Just look.” I spread the pictures out on the counter.

“She was such a beautiful little girl,” he says, smiling.

“Look closer,” I tell him.

He picks one up and examines it. “When was this taken?” he asks, concern in his voice.

“It’s her fourth birthday,” I tell him.

“Why does she look so sad?” he wonders. He goes through all the pictures. The picture of the family church vacation catches his eye.

“I remember this day. The Statson kid was bullying her. He was throwing mud at her and he put ants in her bathing suit. God, that kid was horrible to her,” he says, shaking his head.

“I don’t remember that,” I say quietly.

He looks up at me. Something seems to click in his mind. Like he’s finally seeing everything clearly.

“You don’t? You were the one who told her to stop being dramatic—that she should be grateful that such a nice kid wants to play with her.

“By the end of the night, she was covered in ant bites. I had to go to the pharmacy for a cream so the poor kid could sleep,” he tells me.

My eyes widen. “No. I would’ve noticed.”

He shakes his head. “You never noticed, honey. Not when she was bullied in high school, or in junior high. It was the Statson kid who ruined her prom dress.

“He had a crush on her, but she wasn’t interested and she turned him down nicely. I believe James punched him in the face for trying to take advantage of her.”

I shake my head. “That’s not possible, the Statsons are such a good Christian family,” I tell him, shocked.

“That was your answer every time. After a while, I started believing it too. I guess I should’ve seen it. I shouldn’t have followed you into it,” he says with a sigh.

“So I was mad about a dress that got ripped because that kid tried to take advantage of her?” I gasp.

~God. How could I have been so blind?~

~

“Yes, you practically said that it was her own fault. Not in so many words, but then again…”

I shake my head. “But what about Olivia?” I wonder. He knows how I feel about Olivia.

“What about her? She’s our granddaughter. She’s being taken care of and has a loving family. Anna makes sure she knows what love is—because we never showed her.

“Does it not break your heart? That she tells her little girl she loves her every day because she never felt loved herself? Because she doesn’t want her daughter to endure the same pain?

“The moment she said that… I feel like I could cry right now,” he confesses.

I roll my eyes at him.

“Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me! You were the one who wanted a baby. A baby—so you could play the part of a mother. But when it came down to it, all you cared about was the approval of those judgmental church folks.

“Sometimes I even wonder if you married me just because it looked good.”

“Wh-aaat?” I stutter, taken aback.

~Doesn’t he realize I love him?~

~

“Ruby, I’m going to see my daughter tomorrow and apologize for everything. I’m going to tell her the truth about everything. I want to be a part of her life. Of that beautiful little girl’s life.

“If you have any care for her and me, you’ll do the same,” he urges me.

“But what about—” I begin.

But before I can finish, he interrupts with something that leaves me even more shocked.

“If you don’t make an effort, I’ll file for a divorce. You’ve done enough damage already. If I have to remove you from my life to be with my daughter, then so be it. I’m done with your manipulative games. No more,” he declares firmly.

“Divorce?” I echo. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“Yes, you’ve wrecked enough trying to fit in with that little group. But James is right, family is everything. We pray to God for our family to be happy and healthy, not for our own selfish gains. And I want my family.”

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