Forever After All: Chapter 52

“What happened?” Mom asks.

I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

She grabs her phone at the same time as everyone else, all of us googling our own names and the Kennedy name.

Dread fills me when I find my father all over the news. The headlines have my stomach twisting violently. I click on one of the articles, resignation making my fingers heavy.

A sex tape. My father is in the news because of a fucking sex tape.

I feel sick, but it probably doesn’t compare to how my mother must be feeling.

I inhale deeply and start to scroll through my contacts to find Elliot’s number. How could he have let this happen? He’s got intricate filters set up in order to block this type of stuff from ever reaching the mainstream media, so why didn’t he catch this?

“Elliot?” I say as soon as he picks up. “What happened?”

He yawns loudly. “What are you talking about?” he says, sounding sleepy. “Fuck. My systems are down.”

“Stop,” my mother says. “Stop it, Alec.”

She grabs my phone from my hands and ends the call.

“Enough now. Enough.”

She runs a hand through her hair shakily. When she looks at me, her eyes are filled with heartbreak, but there’s determination in her gaze too.

“I know you’ve been trying to protect me, Alec. I know you’ve been blocking this type of news for years. But it’s enough now. I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t.”

She turns toward my grandfather and tenses, as though she’s bracing herself. “Dad… I’ve tried. I swear, I’ve given it my all. For years, I’ve held onto hope, I’ve held onto the happy memories. But I can’t anymore. All I’ve ever wanted was a marriage like Mom and yours, and for the longest time, I thought that if I endured for long enough, if I proved that my love would always remain strong, then maybe… maybe Anthony would change. You’ve always told me that marriage is forever, that you work things out together, you don’t walk away. But, Dad, marriage takes two. And this marriage? I’ve been in this on my own for years now.”

A tear rolls down her face, and Grandpa walks up to her. He swipes at her tears and a sob escapes Mom’s lips. Grandpa takes her into his arms, hugging her tightly.

“Dad… I want a divorce. I know Kennedys don’t do divorce, but look at me,” she says, her voice breaking. “The whole world knows that my husband cheats on me—I’m a laughing stock. And what for?”

She buries her face in Grandpa’s chest, and he closes his eyes, looking as pained as Mom does. “Please, Dad. Let me have a divorce. If you feel you need to disown me because of it, then do what you must. I just ask that you don’t let it affect my children.”

It kills me to see her like this. Her request shocks me—I never even thought divorce was an option. It wasn’t something I thought Mom would ever dare ask for. But she’s right. This… this is no life.

“Honey,” Grandpa says, his hand brushing over her hair, soothing her. “You’re my little girl, Sofia. All I’ve ever wanted for you was happiness, nothing less.”

He glances at me, a complicated look in his eyes. “Had I known about this… had my grandson not hidden this quite so well, then sweetie, there’s no way I would’ve ever let you stay. I didn’t know, honey. I assumed you two had your problems, but I never imagined it’d be to this extent.”

He rubs her back, but Mom can’t control her tears. It’s like years’ worth of heartache is finally finding its way out.

He pulls away to look at her, and the look on his face… I’ve never seen my grandfather look this hurt before. Mom sniffs, but she’s unable to hold back her sobs.

“Get a divorce,” he says, shocking us all. “You’re my daughter, Sofia. You will always be my little girl. There’s no way I’d disown you for choosing happiness. I won’t be the reason you remain trapped in a loveless marriage.”

I stare at my grandfather in disbelief. I didn’t think he’d ever allow that. I didn’t think he’d let Mom walk away from her marriage without repercussions.

I tried so hard to protect my mother, but if I hadn’t, she might have been able to get a divorce much sooner.

My love for her is what prolonged her pain.