“Now that I’m an adult,” he announced, “I should get two slices of cake.”
“Adults pay rent,” I said.
He paused to consider that.
“One slice is fine.”
After blowing out the candles, Leo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small yellowed envelope.
He pushed it across the table toward me. I laughed.
“Buddy, it’s your birthday. I’m supposed to give you things.”
“I know, Dad.”
Then he glanced at Johnson.
“She gave it to me yesterday. She told me not to read it. She said today was finally the right day for us to read it.”
I looked over at her.
She wasn’t smiling.
Her hands were trembling so badly that tea spilled into her saucer.
The date written on the envelope immediately caught my attention.
It had been written 18 years earlier.
Before opening it, I recognized the handwriting.
It belonged to Goldi.
“What is this?” I asked.
Johnson wiped a tear away.
“Arthur, she didn’t leave because she stopped loving either of you.”
I stared at her.
“She made me promise that I wouldn’t give you that letter until Leo turned 18.”
My hands trembled as I opened the envelope and began reading aloud.
“Arthur,
“If you’re reading this, it means I never got the chance to tell you the truth myself.”
“A few days before our son was born, I was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. My doctors told me my chances were almost nonexistent.”
“I knew you would never leave my side.”
“I knew you would spend every last dollar, every hour, and every piece of yourself trying to save me while raising our son. ”
“I couldn’t let you lose both your wife and your son’s childhood.”
“So I made the cruelest decision of my life. I let you believe I was the villain.”
“I filed for divorce because I knew that if you thought I’d betrayed you, you would stop looking for me and put all your love into raising our son.” “I never stopped loving either of you.”
“I simply believed this was the only way to give you both the life you deserved.”
“I left this letter with Johnson and asked her to keep it hidden until our son’s 18th birthday.”
“I wanted him to be old enough to decide for himself what kind of woman I was.”
“I don’t even know if you can ever forgive me. Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“But if there’s one thing I hope you’ll believe, it’s that leaving was never because I didn’t love our son or you.”
“I loved you both enough to let you hate me.”
“Goldi.”
By the final line, I could barely see through my tears.
Leo remained completely still across from me.
