So I asked:
“What do you want?”
His answer came immediately.
“For Lucas to know I didn’t stay away because there was something wrong with him.”
That hit me.
Nathan looked directly at me.
“I don’t expect him to forgive me.”
He swallowed.
“I don’t even expect him to meet me.”
“Then what?”
“I want him to know the truth.”
I thought about Teagan.
Tell him the truth when he’s ready.
I reached into my handbag.
Pulled out a notebook.
Placed it in front of Nathan.
“Write him a letter.”
He stared at it.
“What?”
“You’ve had ten years to think about what you’d say.”
Nathan looked terrified.
Good.
Some things should frighten you.
“Don’t tell him your parents made you do it.”
“I won’t.”
“Don’t blame Teagan.”
“Never.”
“Don’t tell him you stayed away for his own good.”
Nathan nodded.
“And don’t ask him to forgive you.”
“I won’t.”
“Tell him what happened.”
Nathan took the notebook.
His hand shook.
“And tell him the choice is his now.”
He wrote the letter that night.
It was six pages long.
I read it before giving it to Lucas.
Nathan didn’t excuse himself.
He admitted he’d known about Lucas from the beginning.
He admitted he’d gone to the hospital.
He admitted he’d been afraid.
And he wrote:
I kept thinking I’d come back when I was brave enough to answer for what I’d done. I didn’t understand that courage doesn’t usually arrive first. Sometimes you have to do the frightening thing before you become brave.
He ended with:
I am your biological father, but I know that doesn’t automatically make me your dad. You don’t owe me a relationship. If you ever want to know me, I’ll be here. If you don’t, I will respect that too.
I kept the letter for three days.
Then Lucas asked me why I’d been acting strange.
Children always know.
“Sit with me.”
He sat beside me on the couch.
I showed him Teagan’s photograph first.
“That’s Mom?”
“Yes.”
“Who’s the guy?”
I took a breath.
“Your father.”
Lucas stared at me.
“My dad?”
“Yes.”
He looked at the photograph again.
