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Remember that the event currently being narrated took place before Taylor accepted the marriage proposal. At the beginning of the chapter, I indicated this with the word ‘past.’
William
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
BETINA'S BIRTH
Doctors are often knownfor their coldness.
Even in situations where most people would break down, we remain impassive. But the moment I saw Betina, my beautiful little girl, red-haired like her mother, in Taylor’s arms—for the first time in my life, I felt my eyes fill with tears.
I have my family.
Finally, the second chance I’ve longed for.
I know we’ll never be able to erase the past completely, but I believe it’s possible to write a better story from now on.
Pages where there might occasionally still be a little pain, but where my love, devotion, and care for them will fill most of the space.
"Come here," Taylor calls, handing me my daughter as I approach.
I take her with all the care in the world, afraid of hurting her, but when she opens her eyes and seems to smile at me, I feel like the luckiest bastard who ever lived.
"I love you, Taylor. I don’t think I’ve ever said it plainly because the words always felt insufficient. But never doubt how much I love you."
"I don’t care about formal declarations, William. You show me your love every day and night with your looks, your hugs, and your kisses."
* * *
Six months later
I’ve changed a lot since Taylor came into my life. I’m moved by our daughter’s laughter, by a touch from my wife, or when Taylor plays the violin in private performances for me and Betina.
There’s something, however, that I don’t think will ever change: I still don’t know how to forgive.
I don’t need reminders to recall the offenses done to me. I store them all in my memory, like a computer with infinite capacity.
Right now, as I’m getting ready to leave the prison, I feel like I’ve closed a chapter. I’ve wiped our past clean, once and for all.
"I remember you. I gave you those photos that night at the bar. I just wanted to give you some friendly advice, to show you what a slut she was. You ended up with the redhead anyway? Good for you. I barely remember her face, man. So why the hell did you keep coming after me?"
"Because I don’t leave loose ends."
"You ruined my life."
I stand up, tired of the whining. "No,youruined yourownlife."
Todd—the man responsible for Taylor being fired from the bar a few years ago—got involved in a scheme with his lover, who used to be my wife’s boss. It consisted of drugging girls with roofies?1without their knowledge, allowing the bar’s patrons to indulge in their perversions with guaranteed impunity. According to what my men uncovered, the customers paid a lot to abuse the girls in the back of the bar.
The next day, the girls would wake up with no memory, having no idea what had happened.
When I had my men follow Todd, I was hoping to catch him slipping up, to get revenge, but I had no idea something like this was going on. Then, one day, one of the girls overdosed. Besides the rape drug, they had also injected her with heroin. She died.
My security detail, who were on the lookout, saw them dump her body in an open field. They then made an anonymous call to the police.
It was like knocking over the first domino, and now Todd is in prison, awaiting trial for murder, along with the club owner.
"I never intended to hurt your wife."