Page 73 of Ebbing Tides

And for just one day of my fucking life, I wished I could.

“It’s going to haunt me until I read it,” I muttered to Lido on the car ride to the house I had grown up in.

The house Mom had died in.

The house Dad would one day take his last breaths in.

“I need to know what it says.”

Lido watched me with worry and unease. His brows rising and falling as he dropped his snout to my shoulder.

“It’s okay, buddy,” I assured him. “I’ll be okay.”

But I couldn’t have known that, could I? It was ignorance at its finest, although I remembered exactly how Melanie had looked when she read the words scribbled on that page. It was bad. Whatever it was, I knew it would change me. Hell, maybe itwould changeeverything, and I was a fool to believe for a second I’d be okay.

Yet there I was, taking that letter and walking down the hall to Dad’s office, where he lay, sleeping.

He looked so peaceful, like a child in a sick, old man’s body. The blankets tucked up beneath his chin, his lips parted and his chest rising and falling gently. The whir of the oxygen tank filled the room—an ominous sort of white noise to play as a background track to this pivotal moment in my stupid, shitty life—as I sat on the couch and laid the letter on my thigh.

Outside the closed door, Lido scratched and whined, begging me to let him inside, knowing I needed him. Knowing I'd need the feeling of his soft, smooth fur beneath my palm as I unveiled whatever monster lay dormant inside this folded piece of paper.

But I had started this life without his comfort. I had endured many of its cruelties without him too. What was one more to add to the list?

I trained my eyes on the man in the bed, just feet away from where I sat. Feeling as weathered and broken as he looked, I lifted the letter from my lap.

“What is this, Dad?” I whispered, knowing he was unlikely to hear me when his slumber was so deep. “The fuck have you been hiding from me, huh? Is the reason why you've hated me all my life in here?”

The sound of his oxygen tank pulsing was the only sound that came from his bed, and I was seething with rage. I had no idea what I'd find in that letter, and yet I was already livid because I justknewthat whatever it was, he could've told me it years ago. He could've said it at any point in my life, but hehadn't. He'd chosen to keep it from me. And if I hadn't come across this letter, this goddamn letter, I never would have—

Stop. I have no idea what's in here. Just read it. Then be mad.

I exhaled, my lungs quivering. Then, with a preparatory inhale, I pulled the letter out, letting the envelope flutter to the floor as I quickly unfolded the page. Something in my soul knew that reading these words would alter the course of my life, and I squeezed my eyes shut, asking myself silently if I truly wanted to do this. If it truly mattered that much. But then I remembered the look on Melanie's face, the horror and shock, and I decided that, yes, whatever was in here … I deserved to know.

Even if it broke me, even if it sent me to the bridge …

I deserved to know.

So, I opened my eyes and began to read.

***

Richard,

By now, you know that I chose to end this waste of a life. If you're wondering if it was a difficult choice for me to make, then I would say that, even after forty-four years of marriage, you still don't know me at all.

I should have killed myself when your whore dropped that baby on our doorstep.

I should have killed myself when you forced me to mother your little bastard.

I should have killed myself when you demanded we have another baby.

Oh, I knew you were trying to make me feel better. I guess you were trying to make me feel whole after years of raising a child who wasn't mine. You narcissistic asshole, I'm sure you thought I should've thanked you for filling my womb with your seed and for letting me birth your daughters, but fuck you, Richard.

One of your children was one too many in this world.

I should have killed myself before I married you.

I should have killed myself before I met you.