Chapter 31


    #Chapter 31 – Forgiveness


    “Hello?” Victor’s mechanized voice scratches through the phone.


    “Hey,” I say. “It’s nice to hear from you.”


    Victor hesitates on the other side of the line and I realize, feeling stupid, that I’m talking to him like a


    friend. I clear my throat and sit up straight in my closet.


    “So, why don’t you tell me about your week? Did you have any productive conversations with your


    partner?”


    “Well, no,” he admits. “It’s been a busy week, I’ve been…upied.”


    So upied you had time to take your sons to the theme park for a whole day, I think. “It’s important to


    take time to work on your issues,” I say, stern. “Talk therapy is only ten percent. You’ve got to take the


    things we learn about here and put them into action in your life.”


    I hear him sigh. “Yes, I agree. It can be difficult to find a bnce.”


    “Yes, I understand. So, what’s been on your mind, recently?”


    “My mate has been…well, I think she is reticent. To embrace our new life since my sons appeared on


    the scene. I appreciate that this is something that was shoved on her without her consent – I really do.


    But I wish I saw more…effort?”


    “Tell me more about that,” I say, a little selfishly. “Has she been…cruel, to the children?”


    “No,” Victor says, and I can imagine him shaking his head. “No, I truly believe that she is…innocent, of


    the incident before. She just isn’t interested in them. She doesn’t want to spend time with the boys or


    get involved in political projects that focus on children. She was excited to design the boys’ new


    bedroom in my house but…honestly, I’m wondering if she enjoyed the project more for the design


    challenge, rather than wanting to make the boys happy.”


    I nod and hum in the back of my throat, letting him know I’m listening. “I worry,” he continues, “that


    she’s just not interested in this family life. I thought that with more time she would mature and grow into


    some kind of maternal instinct. But she doesn’t show many signs of that.”


    “And how long have you been together?”


    “Five years.”


    “That’s not a very long time,” I say. “Depending on her age, she could still be growing into that kind of


    maternity. Some women don’t truly feel maternal until they get pregnant or have a child – it can be a


    very bodily urge.”


    I hear him sigh on the other end of the line, doubting me. “What?” I ask, pushing him.


    “Just that…I don’t think she’s one of those, because she’s been pregnant before.”


    “Ohhhh,” I say, my mouth making a perfect circle. Wow. That certainly is news.


    “Yes,” he continues. “About nine months ago, Ame—” he stops, correcting himself, “she discovered that


    she was pregnant. I was thrilled, of course, but she was devastated. And anxious.”


    “What happened?” I ask.


    “A miscarriage, very early on. At least…”


    I wait, in silence, letting him process. “Well,” he continues, “she told me it was a miscarriage. But by


    ident, some monthster, I found a prescription in her nightstand for –I don’t know the medical term


    for them, but – for abortion pills. To end a pregnancy in the early stages. I don’t know if she ever filled


    the prescription, or used them, but I…suspect.”


    “That’s a hard blow,” I say. “I’m sorry to hear that. Can you tell me how that made you feel?”


    “Horrified, betrayed,” he says, huffing. “We always nned to have children. It never urred to me


    that my mate would…would kill my child.”


    “Not everyone views abortion in those terms,” I say gently. “Perhaps she didn’t see it as such a


    grievous offense, like you do.”


    Property of N?)(velDr(a)ma.Org.


    “She knows how I feel about it,” Victor growls. “Look, I’m not one of those people – I understand that


    abortion is a choice women make sometimes, out of personal or medical necessity, but in this case,


    with my family, with my child…to end the possibility, the life, of a much-desired child…It is


    unforgivable.”


    I nod slowly. “I understand. This must be very difficult for you. Have you spoken to her about it?”


    “No,” he says, after a moment. “I tried to bring it up – actually, I tried the day I met my sons, ironically.


    But it was during a fight.”


    “That sounds like part of the problem,” I say. “This is a conversation that you need to have when you


    are feeling calm and ready to hear her.”


    “Yes,” he sighs. “That makes sense.”


    “I think that you should have a clear, open talk with her about what you imagine your future to look like.


    Honestly, if you’re ready to move forward, perhaps you should forgive her – maybe make peace with


    the fact that you’ll never know whether she took those pills. If you’re ready to move forward with her,


    then it doesn’t really matter what happened in the past. What matters is what you do in the future.”


    “I’m not sure I can forgive so easily,” he growls.


    “Well, perhaps that’s why you are in the ce that you are. You need new skills, new methods, for


    dealing with the people in your life.” Victor is silent on his side of the phone – I think I’ve hit a nerve.


    “Leave it in the past,” I advise. “Ask her, honestly, about what your mutual timeline is for kids – make a


    n. Then, if she doesn’te through on the n to which you both agree, then you can have a


    conversation about that. You don’t need to pin her to the wall for something which she may or may not


    have done in the past.”


    “I see,” Victor says. “This does sound…practical.”


    “Go into it with your whole heart,” I say gently. “Try not to view it as a negotiation. Tell her what you


    want, and listen when she tells you what she wants. Try to keep it fun – you’re imagining your future,


    after all. It should be a pleasant conversation.”


    Victor huffs augh. “Yes, in theory, I can see that’s true. But you haven’t met my mate.”


    Haven’t I? I think, after Victor hangs up the phone. I think back on the advice that I’ve given him and


    consider that, with Amelia…perhaps I have sent him into a bit of a minefield.


    “Hey, baby,” Amelia says, lifting her shopping bags onto the kitchen ind and swooping down to give


    Victor a kiss on the cheek as he reads through some paperwork at the kitchen ind.


    “Hey,” he says, catching her hand and pulling her close. Amelia giggles and runs her hands through his


    hair.


    “You’re friendly today,” she says softly.


    “I’m friendly every day,” Victor murmurs.


    Ameliaughs at him and tilts his face up to her. “Baby, I don’t think anyone on earth would choose to


    describe you as friendly.” They bothugh at that.


    “Come sit with me,” Victor says, patting the stool next to him. “Did you have a good day?”


    “I did! I got lots done,” Amelia says, flitting to the refrigerator to snag a bottle of wine and a ss before


    sitting next to Victor. “I have all my outfits ready for spring. Lisbon first, and then Paris! It’s going to be


    so great.”


    “But it’s autumn,” Victor says, amused by her. “Do you need sundresses and strappy sandals now?”


    Amelia winks at him, saluting. “You know me, a good little Beta scout. Always be prepared.”


    Victor smiles at her, letting his eyes drift over her beautiful figure, her stunning face. How lucky he was,


    to have a woman like Amelia as his mate. She smiles back at him and takes his hand, giving it a little


    squeeze.


    “Amelia…” Victor says softly, hesitating. Kind. Open, he says to himself internally, working hard to


    remember his therapist’s advice. Listen to her. Make a mutual n. “Can we…talk? About our ns for


    the future?”


    Amelia heaves a big sigh and pulls her hand out of his, using it, instead, to pour herself a big ss of


    wine.


    “No, baby, it’s not like that – this doesn’t need to be a fight. I’d just like to…you know, make a n.”


    “Why do we need a n,” she says, taking a sip. “ns go awry anyway. You couldn’t have nned


    that you would find two of your gic children one day at the taping of a game show, and that flipped


    all our ns up in the air. So, why have a n to start with?”


    “That’s true,” Victor says, conceding, going against his instinct to argue that ns are necessary. “But, I


    think we can have a sort ofrger n about what we want our lives to look like. In a year, in five years,


    in ten or twenty. Then we can reassess when the world throws us curveballs.”


    Amelia narrows her eyes at him, calcting. “Okayyyy,” she says, slowly. “Is this about kids?”


    “Well –“


    Amelia rolls her eyes and stands up. “Victor, you just got two kids, why are you in such a rush to have


    more? Can’t we just take a break? Let life settle back into its old forms, before we decide to add more


    to the chaos?”


    “I’m just worried,” Victor says carefully, “that what you really mean when you say ‘take a break’ is…


    never get started.”


    “We’re going to have lots of babies,” Amelia says, taking both of his hands and smiling her most


    charming smile, stepping close. “I’m just saying…there’s not really a rush. Let’s see where the world


    takes us.”


    “I want more children, Amelia,” Victor says, working hard to keep the conversation on track. “I want us


    to have a family, one that includes Alvin and Ian, but which also adds our own kids. And, for my own


    peace of mind, I’d like to have a timeline –“


    “Yes,” Amelia coos, taking Victor’s face in her hands and kissing him softly, interrupting is train of


    thought. “Lots of babies, Victor, as many as you want. We’ll get there,” she says, kissing him more


    deeply, pressing her body to his.


    Victor gives in, letting the thoughts about a serious conversation drift from his mind as Amelia’s hand


    moves down his chest and starts to tug at the buckle of his belt.