As you’ve probably already figured out, this is not going to work. I struggled with putting aside my personal feelings and everything I’d always believed about being a parent. I think I did a pretty good job, and in spite of any emotions left inside of me, I was still willing to uphold the contract. Yet all along, you had some kind of silent timeline that you hadn’t let me in on. When I heard you interviewing a new surrogate on the phone, it made me physically ill. I needed to think, I needed some time and space alone to figure all of this out. I thought I had, and then I get here to find you drunk and obnoxious, unwilling to talk to me about what is bothering you. I don’t want to bring a child into the world that will have a father who looks at the world as one giant business deal. A child who is either an inconvenience or a tax write off for a father who handles his troubles by looking at them through the bottom of an empty bottle. I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors Aiden, and thank you for everything you’ve given me thus far.
Holly.
I looked at him one more time before I left. I needed to hold that sight of him drunk and disheveled in the forefront of my mind to know that I was doing the right thing for me, and the baby. Why did the right thing always have to hurt so much?