“No, not any parent. Not me.” Ranee shifts in the chair, her body hurting past its age. “Sonya believed I didn’t want her, that she was an accident. I told her I wanted to have her aborted; she was right.”
Ranee waits for David to process the admission, to accept what she is saying before continuing. “But not for the reasons she believes. I didn’t want her because I couldn’t protect her. I knew what he would do, and I couldn’t stop him. But my failure was not loving her as she deserved, not saying the words she needed to hear. That was my fault, not his,” Ranee admits, turning her gaze on Brent. “So I lost her because she didn’t know I loved her.”
“Why don’t you tell her then? Why me?”
Ranee thinks back to the day of the graduation. She knew what was happening, knew Brent would never let Sonya be happy with her decision. Sonya had to be free, so Ranee said the only thing that would release her—the truth, knowing it would push her daughter away.
“Because I already told her the truth,” Ranee says. “She won’t believe another truth now. Would you?”
David watches her, his emotions guarded. He finally shakes his head, admitting his confusion. “Telling me all of this—I don’t know what to say,” David says, clearly struggling.
Ranee nods in understanding. “It may very well be too late for my daughter and me, but it is not late for her to accept the love waiting for her. I can imagine there is no greater joy than to offer someone love, knowing it is returned completely.” Ranee offers a sad smile, knowing that will never happen for her, but grateful that her daughter can have it, willing to pay the cost. “But a mother cannot give birth to a child and not lose a piece of herself. The child takes a part of the parent with them, holding it as their own. Whether it be their heart or soul, they are now connected for always.”
“She never knew how you felt?” David asks.
“No. I let my daughter go.” Ranee shakes her head. “But then I got tired of missing her. Of yearning for her as only a mother can for a child born from her womb. They are a part of you and when they leave, they take that piece with them, leaving you half of your whole.” Sweat lines her palms and pools in her bra—she fears what she is about to do, but knows there is no choice. “I had to make a choice—either my husband or my daughter.”
She glances at Brent, shocked that after all the steps taken, this would be the one that decided everything. That the man Sonya loved was the final piece of Ranee’s life. He would hold the fate of her future in his hands, but it was worth it for Sonya to finally be free. Ranee says the words slowly, forcing David to strain to hear. “I knew she would never come back as long as Brent was alive.”
“Ranee,” David says, comprehension dawning on his face. He holds up a hand to silence her. “I don’t think you should say any more.”
“No, I think it is finally time for me to say the truth.” Ranee stands up to put as much distance as she can between the man with whom she spent most of her life and the person she is now. “Brent had started to lose his eyesight. The only thing that helped him was his prescription eye drops.” Ranee rummages in her purse, finding what she is looking for. “It was important he take three drops every day, if only to help him see our loss. It is truly a miracle drug. It helps you to see when you fear you are blind. With it he used over-the-counter drops, to help with the redness.”
Ranee sets the Visine bottle down on the table next to the bed, only inches away from Brent. “But it is a drug with many uses, I learned. Something so simple used the wrong way can kill.” Ranee swallows the breath she is holding. Her fingers play with the bottle, remembering the drops she put in his chai every day.