55
Katherine lay stretched across her bed, a paperback novel splayed open in her hand, the pages fluttering slightly each time the fan rotated in its slow, clicking arc. The afternoon sun had softened, slanting gold through the cabin’s windows, dust motes dancing in the light. Everything about the moment was quiet, peaceful—until the cabin door creaked open.
Carolina stepped in slowly, her shoulders hunched, her usual lightness dulled to something fragile and silent. She didn’t say anything. Just closed the door behind her and walked, almost dazed, to the edge of her bed where she sat down and folded in on herself like a paper swan collapsing.
Katherine sat up immediately, the book tumbling forgotten to the floor. “Carolina?” she asked softly, already rising. “What happened? What’s wrong? Why do you look like that?”
Carolina didn’t answer. Her lips trembled as she tried to hold it in, but the tears were already brimming—and then they fell. She didn’t sob loudly. It was quieter than that. Her face crumpled and she covered it with both hands, and her whole body shook like something had broken inside her.
Katherine rushed over, kneeling in front of her. “Hey—hey, oh my God, you’re crying—Carolina, talk to me. What happened? Are you okay? What’s going on?”
Carolina took in a shaky breath, wiped her face messily, and looked at her. “Why do I always pick the wrong guys, Katherine? Why does it always have to be me?”
Katherine blinked, heart squeezing. “What are you talking about?”
“My fiancé,” Carolina whispered, her voice raw. “We dated for years, Katherine. I thought we were solid, I thought we were gonna build a life together. He proposed, I said yes—and then I found out he was cheating. He’d been cheating. All that time.”
Katherine reached for her hand. “I remember. You told me.”
“I thought I was past it. I thought I was finally healing. Then I met Devon, and he felt… different. He made me laugh again. He listened. He made me feel like maybe I could try again.” Her face twisted. “But I was wrong.”
Katherine felt a cold dread seep into her chest. “What happened?” she asked gently. “What do you mean?”
Carolina sniffled, tears streaking her cheeks. “You remember the workshop today? When they made us write down our regrets and swap the papers?”
Katherine nodded slowly.
“There was that girl who read that heavy one—the one about the guy who got a girl pregnant and denied it, ran away because he wasn’t ready, said it wasn’t his. You remember?”
Katherine’s eyes widened. “Yes… I remember. That was hard to hear.”
Carolina looked her straight in the eye, voice shaking. “It was Devon’s.”
Katherine’s breath caught. “What?”
“He told me,” Carolina whispered. “After the session, he came to me by the lake. He said he had to talk to me, and he told me… that he wrote that letter. That he was the guy.”
Katherine sat back on her heels, stunned. “Oh my God…”
“And do you know what’s worse?” Carolina went on, voice rising just slightly, her hands gesturing with that frantic energy of someone unraveling. “I sat there, right next to you, and I looked at you, and I said, ‘Who could ever do something like that? I would never be with someone like that.’ I said it. I meant it. And it was him.”
Katherine’s lips parted, but no words came.
Carolina let out a hollow laugh that cracked into another sob. “He said he was young and scared. That he had a chance to do something with his life, and he thought being a father would ruin it. So he ran. He just… ran. And I understand fear. I do. But what about the girl? The one he left? What about her future? Her body? Her pain? She was a human being, too. She carried that pregnancy alone. She lost opportunities, too. But he never thought of her. He only thought about himself.”
Katherine sat down beside her on the bed, slowly, carefully.
Carolina wiped her cheeks, shaking her head. “I know it’s in the past. I know he said he’s changed. But Katherine, what if he hasn’t? What if he still has that same instinct to run when things get hard? What if I get pregnant? What if something happens, and I need him—and he just… disappears?”
“You don’t have to decide today,” Katherine said softly, rubbing her back. “You’re allowed to feel this. You’re allowed to be scared.”
“I just don’t want to go through that again,” Carolina whispered. “I can’t be with someone who won’t choose me. Who won’t stay.”
Katherine wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into a hug. “Then take your time. Listen to what your heart is saying. You deserve someone who chooses you fully. Every time.”
They were quiet for a long moment, The small cabin seemed to close in around them, the air thick with the weight of what Carolina had just shared. The gentle hum of the fan overhead continued to spin, the blades slicing the silence.
Then, finally, Katherine spoke.
“So… what happened to the child?” she asked gently. “And the mother? What’s their situation now?”
Carolina let out a breath that was almost a sob, her face crumpling again. “Yeah… he told me,” she said, her voice low and hoarse, “that after he lived his life…, got his career together, became this big guy or whatever… he went back to look for them. The girl. The baby.”
Katherine sat straighter, stunned. “Wait, he went back?”
Carolina nodded. “Yeah. He said he went to find the girl again—like, the woman he left—and he wanted to make amends. When he found her, she’d already given birth. She didn’t abort it. She actually went through with the pregnancy. Can you believe that?”
Katherine’s heart ached. “She kept the baby…”
“She kept the baby,” Carolina repeated, her voice wobbling. “It was a girl. He said… she had a daughter. And when he finally tracked them down, the child was already eight years old.”
Katherine gasped. “Eight?”
“Eight fucking years, Katherine,” Carolina snapped, the frustration rising. “He left for eight damn years. Not a phone call. Not a text. Not a single visit. And now—now that he’s all rich and successful, now that he’s built his precious future—he’s trying to come back into that child’s life.”
Katherine just shook her head, speechless.
Carolina’s voice turned sharp, bitter, almost trembling with rage. “He had the nerve to refer to the girl as his child-like, ‘my daughter this,’ ‘my daughter that.’ And I just… I couldn’t, Katherine. When he said my child, I swear something inside me flipped. It gave me the biggest ick. Like… he doesn’t deserve to call her that. He doesn’t get to say those words.”
Katherine reached forward, squeezing her hand. “Oh, Carolina…”
“I’m so mad,” Carolina went on, tears welling again. “So mad because… what gives him the right, Katherine? What gives him the damn right to fight for her now? He left her mother—left both of them—to fend for themselves. And now he thinks he can just walk back in and claim them like they’re some prize waiting for him?”
Katherine swallowed hard, her chest tightening with each word.
“He said he’s been begging the woman,” Carolina whispered. “He’s tried everything—apologies, gifts, long letters, therapy receipts, I don’t know. He says she refuses to even speak to him. And I’m like, duh. And now, guess what? He’s trying to take her to court. He’s fighting for custody. Custody, Katherine. Can you imagine?”
Katherine’s mouth parted, shocked. “Are you serious?”
“I wish I weren’t,” Carolina breathed, burying her face in her hands. “Like… what kind of audacity do you have to abandon your child for eight years, not give a damn while they grow up without you, and then suddenly think that you can go to court and fight for them? He didn’t raise her. He wasn’t there for the fevers. The nightmares. The birthdays. The scraped knees. The lullabies. Nothing. But now he’s rich and he thinks that money gives him the right to a child he never loved in real time?”
Katherine’s jaw tightened. “That’s not okay. That’s not love. That’s entitlement.”
“Exactly,” Carolina cried. “And he doesn’t see it. He still talks like he’s the victim. Like, ‘I didn’t know what to do.’ ‘I was scared.’ ‘I was just a kid myself.’ Okay, fine, maybe you were scared—but being scared doesn’t excuse abandoning someone who needed you. And the fact that he thinks money makes up for it? That scares me, Katherine. It really does.”
Katherine reached out and pulled her into a deep, grounding hug.
Carolina clung to her, her voice breaking again. “I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be with someone who could do that. I know it’s his past, and I want to believe he’s changed… but what if that part of him is still there? That selfish part? That runner?”
Katherine stroked her back slowly, her voice quiet. “You don’t have to know everything now. You don’t have to make a decision tonight. But your heart is talking to you, Carolina. And it’s okay to listen to it.”
“I just…” Carolina shook her head helplessly. “I just don’t want to be the girl who gives everything and then gets nothing. Not again.”
“You won’t be,” Katherine said, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Not if you keep protecting your heart the way you are now. And not if you let yourself walk away when the red flags start to wave.”
Carolina nodded slowly, wiping her tears again. Her voice was smaller now. “It just hurts. Because I was starting to like him so much…”
“I know,” Katherine said softly. “That’s why it hurts. But maybe it’s better to know now before it’s too late.”
Carolina rested her head on Katherine’s shoulder, exhausted, and defeated. “I don’t know what I’m going to say to him.”
“You don’t have to know that yet either,” Katherine whispered. “Just breathe for now. Cry if you need to. I’ve got you.”
And so they stayed there, two women on one bed, the room dimming slowly around them as the sun disappeared and the air grew quiet again—except for the soft sounds of Carolina’s tears and the comfort of knowing she didn’t have to cry alone.