No. No, it was not alright.
Ten years of my life, and the cost of one human life. How was I supposed to forget everything and pretend it never happened? How could I live with myself?
So, I went to court.
The case dragged on for a while, but eventually he signed the papers. Not because he understood what he did wrong, but because he wanted to give the child in Veronica’s belly a name—to build a new family with another woman.
After the divorce, we cut all contact.
Liam went on teaching and painting, while I took my mother from hospital to hospital. We sold the cattle at home, one by one. But her condition never stabilized. Sometimes, she would cling to me and cry. Other times, she would hit me or scream at me when her illness flared up.
The house was filled with bottles of psychiatric medication back then.
There were countless moments when I wanted to end my life. But every single time, I forced myself to keep going because Mom still needed me.
And then, eventually, she couldn’t fight anymore. Her mind cleared again, just like the mother I remembered.
On her deathbed, she held my hand and said, “Sweetheart, you’ve suffered enough. Mom can’t keep dragging you down. I don’t blame you. Your father and I never blamed you. When I’m gone, let the past go. Live your life well. And don’t sacrifice your whole future for someone like him.”
Another ten years passed. I walked out of that snowy night of pain. I cried every tear I had left.
I told myself I was going to live differently—better.
But at my mother’s funeral, I was diagnosed with cancer.
“All those years of psychiatric medication harm the body. This isn’t unexpected,” they told me.
But despite hearing that, I wasn’t even that sad, just regretful. Regretful that in the past ten years, I never truly lived.
“So, in the final stretch of my life, I decided to take a trip—just drop everything and go. I just didn’t expect that after ten years of no contact, I’d run into Liam here of all places. But it’s fine. Everything’s in the past. I let it go a long time ago.”
By the time I finished, the driver beside me was already crying, tears streaming down his weathered face. He asked me why I didn’t tell Liam any of this.
I shook my head. “What’s the point?”
Was I supposed to hold up my father’s death like some tragic badge? Or admit that I was the one who ruined everything and killed him?