He hadn’t reached out to me once since everything came out. That didn’t surprise me; he was a fucking coward. And honestly, there was nothing to say that would have changed this situation or made it better.
I was done with him. It didn’t matter if I never spoke to him again as long as I lived.
When Jonah put down his fork, I asked, “You’re not hungry?”
“Not really.” He stared off then suddenly said, “Mom’s been crying a lot.”
I didn’t know how to respond. What I wanted to say—“Good”—wouldn’t have exactly been the right answer.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I wasn’t. The only thing I was sorry about was that Jonah had to witness it. “Has she told you why she’s upset?”
“She told me not to worry.”
“That’s right. Sometimes, people get sad and cry, but it always passes. It’ll be okay.” I hated that I had no energy to even pretend that I cared about why his mother was crying. My inclination was just to drop the subject as fast as possible, so that he couldn’t sense anything on my end. Telling him the truth wasn’t an option.
I knew that Torrie had no intention of confirming Jonah’s paternity, unless I somehow forced it. I still wasn’t sure what I wanted, often going back and forth between demanding a blood test for peace of mind and never wanting to know.
My mind was just one jumbled mess, intercepted every so often by flashes of red hair, flashes of light, flashes of Frankie. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what she was thinking about my virtual absence from her life. I couldn’t bear to break this news to her, to explain that my breaking her heart all those years ago may have all been in vain.
Then, there was the issue of her safety. I was even more far removed from my father’s antics now. What if he was still planning on causing trouble for her? He was probably more angry and disillusioned with me after being outed for his affair with Torrie. I just didn’t know what to do. It felt selfish to be bringing Frankie into the mess that was my life right now. In my darkest moments, I’d have myself convinced that she would be better off with that old man, who could take care of her and keep her hidden and safe, away from my fucked-up family.
That evening as I pulled up to Torrie’s, Jonah finally called me out on my actions.
“How come you don’t walk me inside anymore?”
“It just has to be like this for a little while. I promise it won’t be forever.”
“What did Mommy do?”
“Adults fight from time to time, okay? Everything is going to turn out alright. I promise. You don’t need to worry. When people have a disagreement, sometimes it’s best if they just keep their distance until time passes. Mommy and I both love you very much, and that’s all you need to remember.”
I hugged him extra tight before watching him walk from the car to make sure he entered the house safely.
My mind was racing on the way home. Distracted, I almost crashed into another car in the opposite lane. That was a wake-up call. I thought about all of the regrets I would have had if my life were to have ended just then. It was a needed reminder of my will to get past this dark time. I just needed help.
Once back at my cold and empty apartment, I grabbed a beer and sat on the kitchen floor with my back against the refrigerator. There was no energy left in me to move from that spot. It was such a random place and moment to hit rock bottom, but I truly felt that was it; I’d hit my lowest point.
“Please.”
I wasn’t even sure at first who I was talking to. It must have been God.
I whispered again, “Please.”
It proved that I did believe someone was listening despite my never really having taught Jonah about religion. Even though St. Matthew’s happened to be a Catholic school, my son hadn’t really grown up with any kind of faith before that nor had my parents ever taken me to church growing up. Despite not knowing what my God looked like, I just felt a spiritual presence in that moment. So, I continued to beg this higher power for guidance. I prayed to God to help me figure out my next steps, how to move on with my life. It was the first time I’d ever acknowledged a true belief.
I went to sleep that night vying to leave everything in God’s hands, because it didn’t feel like my own were capable of handling this situation any longer. I’d hit rock bottom, and there was nowhere to go but up.
The next morning, I was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. The only thing that had changed was that my beard had gotten even longer.
A knock on the door startled me. It was way too early to deal with anyone. It better not have been my father.