“You’re perfect just how you are, Clara.”

“No, I’m not. I’m only a nine, apparently.”

He’s laughing as he backs away from me. “Yeah, but I really only deserve a six.”

I find a seat far away from all the little kids, all the way at the top. Miller was wrong. I don’t think the cartoon helps, because I can’t stop thinking about what happened.

It isn’t lost on me that my anger over finding out about my father and Jenny isn’t nearly as intense as it was when I thought my mother and Jonah were the ones having the affair.

I contemplate that, and I realize it comes down to one thing.

Selflessness.

It seems so insignificant, but it’s not. My mother was put through the most maddening, painful, tragic event of her life. Yet, as always, she put me first. Before her anger, her grief, the betrayal. She did everything she could to shield me from the truth, even if that meant unfairly taking the blame.

I don’t doubt my father’s love for me, but I don’t know that he would have done the same if the tables were reversed. I’m not sure Jenny would have either.

As devastated as I am to finally know the truth, it actually hurts less than when I thought my mother was the one in the wrong.

Since the day I was born, every decision she’s ever made for herself was made in order to benefit me. I’ve always known that about her. But I’m not sure I appreciated it until tonight.

The cartoon has ended and the theater has cleared out, but I’m still staring hard at the blank screen, wondering how my mother is doing. She’s the real victim in all of this, and it makes me sad to know that the two people she’s leaned on for most of her life are the same two people who weren’t there to catch her when she fell. Hell, they’re the ones who made her fall in the first place.

I can’t imagine all the invisible bruises she’s covered in right now, and I hate that some of them are there because of me.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

MORGAN

I called Jonah after I got home from dropping Clara off at the theater. It was ironic, because I needed him in much the same way Clara needed Miller. We talked for a while, but Elijah was already asleep, so he couldn’t come over.

I would have gone to him, but I didn’t want to be away from the house in case Clara came home.

Two hours have gone by, and I’ve done nothing but pace the floor and stare at the blank television screen, wondering how she’s doing. Wondering if Miller is giving her the reassurance and comfort she needs right now.

Even if he is, I feel this emptiness in me, and it’s creating a pull to go find her. After she’s been gone for two and a half hours, I finally grab my keys and decide to drive myself back to the theater.

Miller is behind the concession stand when I walk inside. He’s helping two customers, but I don’t see Clara anywhere. I stand in line and wait until he’s free. When he hands the customers their change and they step out of my way, he looks up and stiffens.

I like that I make him nervous, but I also hate it. I don’t want to be unapproachable to someone my daughter cares so much about.

“Looking for Clara?” he asks.

I nod. “Yeah. Is she still here?”

He looks at the clock on the wall behind him, then nods. “Yeah, she should be alone in theater three. The movie ended fifteen minutes ago.”

“She’s . . . alone? Just sitting in a theater by herself?”

Miller smiles and pulls a cup off a stack, filling it with ice. “Don’t worry, she likes it.” He fills the cup with Sprite and hands it to me. “I’ve been busy, so I haven’t been able to take her a refill. You want anything?”

“I’m good. Thank you.”

I start to turn around but stop short when Miller says, “Mrs. Grant?”

He looks to his left, then his right, ensuring our privacy. He leans forward a little, looking me in the eyes. He presses his lips together nervously before he speaks. “I’m really sorry about sneaking into your house the other night. And for . . . all the other stuff. I really do care about her.”

I try to see him for the first time without all the preconceived notions Chris had about him. I want to see him as Jonah sees him—like he’s a good kid. Good enough to date Clara. I’m still not sure about that yet, but the fact that he’s just given me what seems like a very genuine apology is a good start. I nod, giving him a small smile, then head toward theater three.

She’s all the way at the top when I walk in. The lights are on, and she’s staring straight ahead at the blank movie screen, her feet propped up on the seat in front of her.

She doesn’t notice me until I start walking up the stairs toward the top row. When she does lay eyes on me, she sits up straighter and pulls her feet down. When I reach her, I hand her the Sprite and take a seat next to her.

“Miller thought you might need a refill.”

She takes the Sprite and sips from it, moving her empty cup to the seat on the other side of her. Then she lifts the armrest between us and leans into me. It takes me by surprise. I wasn’t sure what to expect from her. She’s been through a lot tonight, and to be honest, I’ve been waiting for the aftershocks to hit. I take advantage of this rare moment of affection by wrapping my arm around her and pulling her to me.

I don’t think either one of us really knows how to start the conversation. A few long seconds go by before Clara says, “Have you ever cheated on Dad?”

She doesn’t ask it in an accusatory way. It’s almost like she’s just working through a thought, so I answer her honestly. “No. Up until Jonah, your father was the only guy I’d ever kissed.”

“Are you angry at them? Dad and Jenny?”

I nod. “Yes. It hurts. A lot.”

“Do you regret marrying him?”

“No. I got you.”

She lifts her head. “I don’t mean do you regret ever dating him or getting pregnant with me. But do you regret marrying him?”

I brush her hair from her forehead and smile. “No. I regret the choices he made, but I don’t regret the choices I made.”

She lays her head back down on my shoulder. “I don’t want to hate him, but I’m mad that he did that to us. I’m mad that Aunt Jenny would do something like that to us.”

“I know, Clara. But you have to understand that their affair had everything to do with us, but also absolutely nothing at all.”

“It feels like it had everything to do with us.”

“Because it did,” I say.

“You just said it didn’t.”

“Because it doesn’t,” I say.

Clara lets out a short defeated laugh. “You’re confusing me.”

I urge her off my shoulder and turn in my seat a little so that we’re facing each other. I take one of her hands in both of mine. “Your father was a great father to you. But as a husband, he made some shitty choices. No one can be the perfect everything.”

“But he just seemed so perfect.”

The betrayal in her eyes saddens me. I don’t want her to go through life with this memory of Chris. I squeeze her hand. “I think that’s the problem. Teenagers think their parents should have it all figured out, but the truth is, adults don’t really know how to navigate life any better than teenagers do. Your father made some big mistakes, but the things he did wrong in his life shouldn’t discredit all the things he did right. Same goes for your aunt Jenny.”