“But now I do . . .” I was so tired, I couldn’t help myself and started crying.
Jayne stared at me with disgust.
“Is there anything more pathetic than a monster who keeps asking please? please? please?—”
“I mean . . . what more do you want from me?” I asked, recovering slightly.
“Are you kidding? You’re actually asking that?”
“I’m going to try, Jayne. I’m going to really try. I’m . . .” I wiped my face. “I’m gonna look after the kids while you go off tomorrow and—”
Jayne started talking over me in a tired voice. “We have a maid, we have Marta, the kids are gone all day—”
“But I can look after them too, when, I mean, when they’re at the house and—”
Jayne suddenly stood up.
“But I don’t want you to look after them because you’re an addict and an alcoholic, and that’s why we need people at the house, and that’s why I don’t like you driving the kids anywhere, and that’s why you should probably just—”
“Jayne, I think you should sit down.” Dr. Faheida gestured at the armchair.
Jayne breathed in.
Realizing I had no other options (and that I didn’t want any other options), I said, “I know I haven’t exactly proven myself, but I am going to try . . . I am really gonna try and make this work.” I hoped the more I said this, the more it would register with her.
I reached for her hand. She knocked it away.
“Jayne,” Dr. Faheida warned.
“Why are you going to try, Bret?” Jayne asked, standing over me. “You’re gonna try because your life is so much worse by yourself? Because you’re too afraid to live it alone? Don’t tell me you’re gonna try because you love Robby. Or because you love me. Or Sarah. You are far too selfish to get away with f**king lying like that. You’re just afraid to be by yourself. It’s just easier for you to stick around.”
“Then kick me out!” I suddenly roared back.
Jayne collapsed into the armchair and started sobbing again.
This caused me to regain my composure.
“It is a process, Jayne,” I said, my voice lowered. “It’s not intuitive. It’s something you learn—”
“No, Bret, it’s something you feel. You don’t learn how to connect with your own son from a f**king manual.”
“Two people have to try,” I said, leaning forward. “And Robby is not trying.”
“He’s a child—”
“He’s a lot smarter than you give him credit for, Jayne.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Yeah, right, it’s all me,” I said, giving up. “I’ve betrayed everyone.”
“You’re so sentimental,” she said, grimacing.
“Jayne, you took me back for your own selfish reasons. You didn’t take me back because of Robby.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock.
I was shaking my head, glaring at her.
“You took me back for yourself. Because you wanted me back. You always wanted me back. And you can’t stand that that’s how you feel. I came back to you because you wanted me back and this choice had very little to do with Robby. It was what Jayne wanted.”
“How can you say that?” Jayne sobbed, her voice high and questioning.
“Because I don’t think Robby wants me here. I don’t think Robby ever wanted me back.” I became so tired when I admitted this to the room that my voice became a whisper. “I don’t think the father ever needs to be there.” My eyes were watery again. “People are better off without them.”
Jayne stopped crying and regarded me with a cold and genuine interest. “Really? You think people are better off without a father?”
“Yes.” The room could barely hear me. “I do.”
“I think we can disprove that theory right now.”
“How? How, Jayne?”
Quietly, and with no effort, she simply said, “Look how you turned out.”
I knew she was right, but I couldn’t stand the silence that would have punctuated that sentence, the silence that would give it dimension and depth and weight, transforming it into the sentence that would connect with an audience.
“What does that mean?”
“That you’re wrong. That a boy needs his father. It means that you were wrong, Bret.”
“No, Jayne, you were wrong. It was wrong of you to have that child in the first place,” I said, meeting her gaze. “And you knew it was wrong. It wasn’t planned, and when you supposedly consulted me I told you that I didn’t want a child and then you went ahead and had him even though you knew it was wrong. We did not make that decision together. If anyone is wrong here, Jayne, it’s you—”