The End

Chapter 49: Empty Chairs

Patrick sat in the living room of a house that was once his. A house that was now the carnage of his life's decisions. He had rehearsed this moment for years. Lived it quietly in his mind a hundred times. Contemplated the words he would say, the way he would move, what he would wear. Predicted the reactions, the outcome. 

Today, the years of rehearsal was all for not. He was staring at three empty chairs. His heart heavier with each passing second.

In the distance he could hear the sound of Jillian tossing anything that had the faintest smell of him into a storage unit in the garage. If it wouldn't have started a forrest fire, he was pretty sure she would have burned it in the backyard. Coming home to this house felt like salt in his wounds. It was empty, wiped entirely of his existence.

There were years when Patrick imagined this conversation would be the familiar, We love you kids, we're just not in love with each other anymore. He had always known that if their marriage ended, Jillian would never be his friend. She wouldn't take it well. But he had believed they could still co-parent together.  That they could end the marriage without ending the family. They would always be a family... wouldn't they?

Even after he confessed the affair to Jillian, some part of him still hoped it could all be salvaged. He'd planned to tell the kids gently, to reassure them that they would always come first, that no matter what happened between him and their mother, they would never lose him.

That plan had unraveled before it ever began. They weren't coming. He knew that now, even with twenty minutes left before Jill would kick him out. 

Patrick checked his phone for the 10th time in the last five minutes. He shook his head with a sigh before giving into his urge to call. It went straight to her voicemail, "Hey, this is Tallulah, leave a message and I'll text you back." An amused gust of air left his lips at the sound of her voicemail.

"It's me again," Patrick's voice was weary, "Please call me back. Love you."

The pain pressuring his chest, was nearly unbearable now. He'd always understood the meaning of a home-wrecker, but he'd never experienced it. Not first hand. Not like this. The consequences he'd spent a decade avoiding were now burying him.

His greatest fear was that there was no way to have both. He would be forced to choose between his children and Ellen. Life wasn't generous enough to give you everything. This was it. The moment he had been afraid of. The moment he deserved. 

And then the emptiness was shattered by  the click of the front door opening.

Patrick looked up surprised, "Sullivan," the faintest smile pulled at his lips. The sight of his son in the doorway making his heart jump. He stood to hug him but Sullivan stepped back. Patrick didn't push his luck. He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, "I didn't think anyone was coming."

"I wasn't going to," Sullivan said firmly standing at the furthest edge of the room. "And then I remembered that you accept a lot of things about me." His voice cracking a little with emotion, "You didn't understand me... but you never stopped trying to." Patrick's eyes began to well with tears. "So I figured... if I wanted you to keep showing up for me..." Sully finally looked up into his father's eyes. "...I should probably show up for you now." 

Patrick struggled to clear the lump of emotion in the back of his throat. The silence lingered between them. The weight of his son's words resonating through him. As he looked into Sullivan's eyes he realized that he was grown. This was a conversation between two adults. He was so proud of him. Not because he showed up today, because of the person he had become. A person strong enough to face difficult conversations. Brave enough to be himself. He was better than Patrick would ever be. 

Patrick didn't speak for a long moment. "Thank you," his words were full of breath and vulnerability. 

"I'm still mad," Sully followed his empathy with truth. 

"I know," Patrick nodded, a tint of shame covering his skin. 

"I think Tallulah has every right to be furious."

"She does," Patrick agreed.

A silent acknowledgement of understanding fell between them. Patrick knew he hadn't come here to take his side. But he had come here. There was hope in that.  

"Can I ask you something," Sullivan cracked the silence wide open. 

"Anything." Patrick answered quickly. His eyes eager to share.

Sullivan hesitated, "Are you in love with her?"

Patrick's eyes dropped to his hands, the callus on his ring finger still visible. There was so much he could have said, so many explanations he could have offered, but he settled on the simplest truth. "Yes," he said quietly. "Very much so."