Chapter 9
The months after Ryan went to prison were strange.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
But also empty.
Like the calm after a storm.
I spent a lot of time with Lily.
We went to therapy.
We talked.
We healed.
She was angry at her father.
Confused.
Sad.
But she was also resilient.
Strong.
Stronger than I’d been at her age.
I sold the house that Ryan and I had lived in.
Too many bad memories.
I bought a smaller house a few miles from my father’s.
Something that was mine.
Something new.
Lily and Max loved it.
My father came over for dinner every Sunday.
Sometimes during the week too.
We were rebuilding our relationship.
Slowly.
One day at a time.
I went back to school.
I’d always wanted to get my master’s degree in social work.
To help women who were going through what I’d gone through.
My father was proud of me.
“Your mother would be proud too,” he said.
I believed him.
Six months after Ryan went to prison, I got a letter.
It was from him.
I almost didn’t open it.
But I did.
*Emily,*
*I’m writing this because I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to say it to your face. And I need you to hear it.*
*I’m sorry.*
*Not just for the things I did. But for the person I became. For the lies. The manipulation. The hurt. I destroyed the best thing that ever happened to me. And I have no one to blame but myself.*
*I know saying sorry doesn’t fix anything. I know I can never give you back the six years I took from you. Or the relationship with your father. Or the trust you had in people.*
*But I need you to know that I loved you. Once. A long time ago. Before the money and the greed and the lies took over. I really did love you.*
*And I love Lily. More than anything. I hope someday she can forgive me. I hope she can remember the good parts. The father who took her to the park and taught her to ride a bike and told her she could be anything she wanted to be.*
*I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t even expect you to write back. I just needed you to know that I know what I did. And I’m sorry.*
*— Ryan*
I read the letter twice.
Then I put it down.
I didn’t feel anything.
No anger.
No sadness.
No forgiveness.
Just… nothing.
I showed the letter to my father.
He read it.
Then he said, “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m going to do nothing.”
My father nodded.
“Good.”
I put the letter in a drawer.
And I didn’t think about it again.
A year after the trial, I graduated with my master’s degree.
Lily was there.
My father was there.
My sister, who I’d reconnected with, was there.
It was one of the happiest days of my life.
I started working at a women’s shelter.
Helping women who were in abusive relationships.
Women who were being manipulated and controlled.
Women who didn’t know how to leave.
I told them my story.
I told them they were strong.
I told them they deserved better.
And slowly, I started to heal too.
Lily turned eleven.
She was thriving.
She had friends.
Good grades.
She was happy.
She didn’t talk about her father much anymore.
But sometimes, late at night, I’d hear her in her room.
Crying.
Talking to him.
Telling him about her day.
I never interrupted.
I just let her be.
She needed to grieve the father she’d lost.
And I needed to let her.
Two years after Ryan went to prison, I met someone.
His name was David.
He was a doctor.
Kind.
Honest.
Patient.
He had a daughter the same age as Lily.
We met at a school event.
He didn’t know who I was.
He didn’t know about my father’s money.
He didn’t know about Ryan or the trial or the drama.
He just liked me.
For me.
We took things slow.
Very slow.
I wasn’t ready to trust again.
Not completely.
But David was patient.
He didn’t push.
He just… was there.
Lily liked him.
His daughter, Emma, liked me.
Max liked him too.
That was a good sign.
My father approved.
“He’s a good man,” he said. “I checked him out.”
I laughed.
“Of course you did.”
But I was grateful.
Three years after Ryan went to prison, David asked me to marry him.
I said yes.
But we decided to wait.
To take our time.
To make sure it was right.
For us.
For the girls.
Then, four years after Ryan went to prison, I got another letter.
This one wasn’t from Ryan.
It was from his lawyer.
Ryan was being released early.
Good behavior.
He’d served four years of his eight-year sentence.
And he wanted to see Lily.
The letter said he’d been through therapy.
That he’d changed.
That he wanted to be a father to his daughter again.
I crumpled the letter in my hand.
I felt like I was twenty-four years old again.
Scared.
Alone.
But then I looked around.
At my house.
At my life.
At my father talking to David in the backyard.
At Lily and Emma playing with Max.
I wasn’t that girl anymore.
I was stronger.
I had people who loved me.
People who would protect me.
I walked outside.
My father looked up.
He saw the expression on my face.
“What is it?”
“Ryan is getting out of prison.”
The backyard went quiet.
David stood up.
“Emily—”
“He wants to see Lily.”
My father’s face hardened.
“Over my dead body.”
I looked at him.
Then at David.
Then at Lily.
She was laughing.
Happy.
Carefree.
I took a deep breath.
“No,” I said. “We’re not going to do that. We’re not going to fight. We’re not going to let him back into our lives like this.”
I looked at my father.
“Call the lawyers. Find out what his rights are. Find out what we need to do to protect Lily. But we do this calmly. We do this smart. We don’t let him see that he’s getting to us.”
My father studied my face.
Then he smiled.
Pride in his eyes.
“You’ve come a long way, Emily.”
I looked at Lily.
“I had a good teacher.”
That night, I sat Lily down and told her.
She was quiet for a long time.
Then she said, “Do I have to see him?”
“Only if you want to,” I said. “Never if you don’t. And if you do, we’ll make sure you’re safe. We’ll be there with you. Every step of the way.”
Lily thought about it.
“I don’t know if I want to see him,” she said. “He hurt you. He hurt Grandpa. He hurt me. But… he’s still my dad.”
“I know, baby. And that’s okay. You can feel two things at once. You can be angry at him and still love him. You can be hurt and still miss him. Whatever you feel is okay. And whatever you decide, I’ll support you. Always.”
Lily hugged me.
“Thank you, Mommy.”
I held her tight.
And I knew that whatever happened, we’d be okay.
Because we were strong.
May you like
Because we had each other.
And because we’d already survived the worst.
