I faltered. “It’s just a reminder…of how precious life is.”
His voice broke, barely holding back the weight of his pain. “Eighteen years, Darcy, and I still remember every detail of that day. I’ve tried to move on, but every birthday, every playground, every girl with curls like hers—it’s all still there.” He stormed outside, leaving Eric and me in silence.
Eric asked what had really happened that day, and I could no longer hide the truth. I whispered, “I had a panic attack. I left Penny on the ride.” I paused, feeling the gravity of my confession. “She begged me to stay with her, but I reassured her she’d be fine. I didn’t know about the faulty seatbelts. I never imagined what would happen.”
Abraham entered, his face lined with anguish. “All these years, I thought you tried to keep her safe,” he said, his voice cracking. “You weren’t there?”
I broke down, feeling the weight of years of guilt. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I left her. Every time I think of her, I hear her asking me to stay.”
Eric put his arms around me, whispering, “Mom, it was an accident. You couldn’t have known.”
Abraham finally spoke, his voice soft but filled with grief. “I’m not angry, Darcy. Just heartbroken. We couldn’t save her, and that’s something I’ll never fully heal from.”
We embraced, three broken people, bound by loss and love. Sharing my secret brought relief, though the guilt may never fade. As we packed Eric’s belongings for college, I realized life is a web of joy and sorrow, forgiveness and regret. Sometimes, the people we love are the strongest support we have, guiding us through the hardest times.
Though Abraham has forgiven me, I still struggle to forgive myself. I’m not sure I ever will.