Chapter 9 – THE BOY WHO STOPPED APOLOGIZING

“Yes,” Marco said softly.

Charlie looked at him.

“You didn’t need to write that letter.”

The boy’s eyes filled.

“Then why did she make me?”

Nobody answered immediately.

Victoria stood.

“Charlie, I’m sorry.”

He looked at her.

“Was the baby really sick?”

Victoria swallowed.

“The pregnancy ended, sweetheart.”

“Before Monday?”

“Yes.”

He looked confused.

“Then why was I still going to school?”

Victoria took a step toward him.

“Because I’d already made arrangements, and I thought the school might help you.”

Charlie shook his head.

“But you said Uncle Marco would be happier.”

Her face crumpled.

“I was wrong.”

“You said he didn’t need me anymore.”

“I know.”

“You said I should be brave.”

Victoria began crying again.

Charlie looked at her for several seconds.

Then he said something that surprised all of us.

“I was brave.”

Marco moved toward him.

The boy continued.

“I packed everything. I didn’t complain. I practiced saying goodbye in the mirror because you said it would make Uncle Marco feel better.”

He wiped his face angrily.

“I did all of it.”

Marco knelt beside him.

“I know, buddy.”

Charlie shook his head.

“No, you don’t.”

Marco stopped.

Charlie looked at Victoria.

“I thought being good meant not making anybody sad.”

Nobody spoke.

Then he added, “I couldn’t do it.”

His voice broke.

“I tried really hard, but I couldn’t stop being sad.”

Marco reached for him.

This time, Charlie stepped away.

“I don’t want a hug.”

Marco lowered his hand.

“Okay.”

The boy looked startled.

He’d expected an argument.

Marco remained where he was.

“You don’t have to hug anybody when you don’t want to.”

Charlie rubbed his eyes.

“Can I keep Dad’s room?”

“Yes.”

“Can I keep living here?”

“Yes.”

“Even if you marry Victoria?”

Marco went still.

Victoria looked up.

The question hung between them.

Finally, Marco said, “Charlie, you don’t have to worry about our wedding.”

“But you said you were getting married in spring.”

“I know.”

“Are you still?”

Marco glanced at Victoria.

Her expression changed.

She knew the answer before he spoke.

“Not now,” he said.

Charlie stared at him.

“Because of me?”

“No.”

“But—”

“Because Victoria and I have things we need to figure out. Things adults are responsible for.”

Charlie looked uncertain.

Marco continued.

“You aren’t responsible for our decisions. You’re twelve. You’re supposed to worry about school, your friends, and whether the Cubs will ever stop disappointing everybody.”

Charlie gave a watery laugh.

“They’re terrible.”

“Some years.”

“Most years.”

Marco nodded solemnly.

“That’s fair.”

The boy’s expression softened for a moment.

Then he turned toward the hallway.

“I’m going to my room.”

Marco rose.

“Dinner in an hour?”

Charlie hesitated.

“Maybe.”

“Okay.”

He left.

This time, nobody tried to stop him.

Victoria sat down heavily.

“I never wanted him to hate me.”

Marco looked at her.

“You wanted him to leave.”

“I wanted us to have a chance.”

“We had one.”

She looked up.

He continued.

“You could’ve talked to me. You could’ve told me the truth about the pregnancy. You could’ve said you felt lonely here.”

“I did say I was lonely.”

“And I failed to listen.”

Victoria wiped her face.

Marco nodded.

“That’s mine to answer for.”

He looked toward the doorway.

“But what happened to Charlie is yours.”

She lowered her head.

For a while, neither spoke.

Then Marco removed his engagement ring from the chain he sometimes wore around his neck.

He placed it on the desk.

Victoria stared.

“Marco?”

“We can’t get married while this is between us.”

She nodded slowly.

“Are you ending it?”

He took his time.

“I’m saying the wedding is off. I don’t know what our relationship looks like after this.”

Her eyes filled again.

“I understand.”

He looked at her.

“I hope you find someone to talk to about the baby. You shouldn’t have to carry that loss alone.”

Victoria nodded.

“Will you come with me?”

Marco hesitated.

“I can help you find support. But I can’t promise what you want from me right now.”

She looked down.

“That was fair.”

I quietly gathered the scattered papers from Daniel’s desk.

Marco turned toward me.

“Claire.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Thank you for telling the truth.”

I shook my head.

“Charlie told the truth.”

Marco looked toward the hallway.

“Yes,” he said. “He did.”

Later that evening, I carried a plate of sandwiches toward Charlie’s room.

The door was open.

He sat on his bed with the one-eared bear beside him.

“Hungry?” I asked.

“A little.”

I set down the plate.

“Your uncle’s downstairs.”

“I know.”

“He’s doing the dishes.”

Charlie looked up.

“Really?”

“Apparently seventeen years of community service begins immediately.”

For the first time that evening, he smiled.

Then the smile faded.

“Claire?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you tell me something?”

“Of course.”

He looked at the bear.

“How do I know Uncle Marco won’t stop talking to me again?”

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