Yael was still sobbing softly in my arms, his small body trembling in a way that tore at my heart.
Silas reached out, wanting to take Yael from me, but Yael flinched at the slightest hint of his touch. He began struggling furiously, refusing to let Silas get anywhere hear him.
“Bad man! Bad man!” Yael cried, his voice laced with desperation. It seemed his disappointment had reached its peak–he wouldn’t even call him “Daddy” anymore.
Silas froze, his hands hovering in mid–air, before retreating helplessly to stand on the sidelines.
I took Yael inside and changed him into a dry set of clothes. Then, I sat down on the living room sofa, intending to have a proper conversation with Silas.
He seemed to sense what was coming. One moment, he’d excuse himself to use the restroom; the next, he’d say he needed to make a cup of coffee–anything to avoid sitting down.
Watching him pace around, I finally called out, “Silas.‘
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He stopped in his tracks and, as though he’d been commanded, stiffly sat down. He didn’t move a muscle, his avoidance replaced by an almost forced stillness.
“Am I really that terrible?” he asked, his voice low.
The truth was, he was.
“You’ve failed at every role you’ve taken on, haven’t you? You’re neither a good husband nor a good father.”
His face fell, a chaotic swirl of emotions dulling his expression into one of muted despair. He looked like a stray dog, cast out and utterly lost.
“I can
“What if I said I’ll change?” He raised his head, a glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes. be better to you. I can be a good father to Yael. I’ll take him out and spend time with him. We can start over. We can be a family again.”
So, he knew all along that he had been wrong. He knew the hurt he inflicted on us but justified it because of the love we once gave so freely.
But now?
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I said calmly.
