“That doesn’t disappear because she did terrible things.”
Chloe stared at him.
“Would you ever take her back?”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
“Why not if you still care?”
“Because caring about someone and trusting them with your life are different decisions.”
That became the lesson Andrew carried forward.
For a while after sentencing, he lived too quietly.
Work.
Home.
Gym.
Occasional dinner with Tommy.
Sunday calls with Emily.
Visits from Chloe when she was home from school.
He finished projects he had ignored.
Repaired the deck.
Reorganized the garage.
Replaced the kitchen light Lauren always hated.
He expected freedom to feel dramatic.
Mostly it felt like deciding what groceries to buy for one person.
Then Emily called one evening.
“Dad.”
“Yeah?”
“What are you doing in January?”
“Working.”
“No.”
Andrew laughed.
“What?”
“You have vacation time.”
“I have projects.”
“You nearly died in a tunnel and somehow learned nothing.”
He became quiet.
Emily continued.
“Chloe and I were talking.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“We want to go to Costa Rica.”
Andrew did not answer.
“Dad?”
“I heard you.”
“With you.”
The room seemed to change.
He looked at the empty kitchen chair where Lauren used to sit.
“I don’t know.”
“That means yes.”
“No, it means I don’t know.”
“Chloe already found flights.”
“Of course she did.”
“And I found a hotel.”
Andrew laughed despite himself.
“What happened to asking?”
“We learned from Mom that waiting for people to make healthy decisions is unreliable.”
“Emily.”
“Too soon?”
“Several years too soon.”
She softened.
“Dad, that trip doesn’t belong to her.”
Andrew looked out the window.
The maple tree had lost most of its leaves.
For twenty years, he had built life around responsibility.
Nothing wrong with that.
But responsibility had quietly become postponement.
The tunnel taught him life could end suddenly.
Lauren’s betrayal taught him another kind of ending could happen just as unexpectedly.
Maybe Emily was right.
“Send me the dates.”
Emily screamed into the phone.
Andrew pulled it away from his ear.
“I said send me the dates.”
“That is basically a yes.”
“Do not book anything until I approve the structural integrity of the hotel.”
“Dad.”
“I’m kidding.”
Mostly.
They went in January.
Ten days.
Andrew.
Emily.
Chloe.
No dramatic reinvention.
No younger girlfriend.
No attempt to prove he was suddenly adventurous.
They hiked through rainforest.
Saw monkeys steal fruit from another tourist’s bag.
Crossed suspension bridges Andrew inspected far more closely than his daughters considered socially acceptable.
Chloe photographed him examining a cable anchorage.
She posted it to the family group chat with the caption:
ENGINEER ATTEMPTS VACATION. RESULTS INCONCLUSIVE.
One afternoon, they stood above a waterfall.
Mist drifted through the trees.
Andrew watched his daughters argue over where to take a photograph.
For a moment, Lauren’s absence hurt.
Not because he wanted her there now.