Cyprus

Taking a deep breath, I felt Birch squeeze my hand. My fingers had been working the piece of paper in my hands for over an hour.

I folded and unfolded, I opened it wide and stared at what I had written down, and still it somehow felt unfinished. It shouldn't, it should have been done, it should have been filled with everything I wanted to say to that man.

And as I sat there, re-reading it over and over, it just didn't feel like my feelings were captured well enough in my letter.

“Are you ready?” The prosecutor asked, leaning down and softly speaking into my ear. “You don't have to do this if you don't want to, you can still turn it down.”

“No, I want to—I need to.”

Birch kissed my cheek, gently nuzzling his forehead against my temple. “Just tell him the truth.” His hand stroked up and down my back, confident and strong. “Don't worry about what you wrote, just tell him what you feel.”

It felt like this day took forever to get here. We sat back and listened to the prosecutor and defense attorney go back and forth over sentencing terms and what each deemed necessary for the crime. There was no debate Nick was going to be spending the rest of his life behind bars, it was the meager details that they fought over now.

Nick plead guilty, he wasn't fighting them and trying to ease his own suffering. He wanted this all to be over as much as we did. But lawyers still played the push and pull game.

The prosecutor wanted murder charges on everything he confessed to. The defense wanted to split hairs and try to have some of the chargers changed from murder to second degree murder and manslaughter.

No matter which way they wrote it, Nick was destined to die behind steel bars and four feet of cement. I didn't see the point in this game, but it wasn't up to me.

A small foot kicked my rib, jogging me awake. Our son tumbled and turned, doing acrobatics in my gut, making me wince as he shoved a limb into my kidney.

And that's when it all came together, right then, as I held my breath and waited for my child to snuggle into place.

I know what I need to say. . .

“I'm ready,” I said, looking up at Loretta Scott, prosecutor for the state of Rhode Island.

Her thin face twisted in a tender smile, eyes thinning as years of stress created thick crows feet at the outer corners. “Alright.” Nodding, she rested her hand on mine and patted the top. “Judge Carmichael, before you hand down your ruling, Fiona Deltorro would like to speak.”

Nodding, the judge waved his hand. “Ms. Deltorro, the floor is yours.”

Birch's fingers fell off my back as I stood, their presence fading as my skin cooled on the longest walk of my life. It was only ten feet maybe less to the podium, but it felt like I walked a mile to get there.

Nick was sitting at the defense table, hands folded on top, eyes opened wide staring at me. He didn't look upset or angry, he didn't look nervous or uncomfortable that I was about to tell him everything that I felt about him.

He was calm, but eager, I could tell by the way his fingertips repeatedly tapped into each other. It was the only sign I had that he was actually listening. A motion I had grown up watching, a subtle mannerism that most would never spot.

But I could. Because I knew my parents killer, I knew him like a daughter would know her father. 

Unfolding the paper, I smoothed it out on the glossy platform, doing my best to not let my emotions take over. I could feel the tears as they sat in the back of my sockets, waiting for the perfect moment to take over.

Taking in a deep breath, I looked down at my victim impact statement and sighed. This isn't it, this isn't what I want to say.

Clearing my throat, I swallowed hard. “I had a whole long letter that I wrote for today. I spent days trying to get it right, trying to find the perfect words to use so you would know exactly what you had done to me. . .” Thumbing the edge of the sheet, I fiddled with the corner. “But this—this isn't it.”

Allowing my eyes to meet Nick's, he gave me that same fatherly smile I had seen that day in the woods. My nerves seemed to settle and that smile had somehow given me the strength to articulate everything inside.

“You did so many horrible things to me and to so many others. But you don't need me to stand here and tell you again what those things were. This isn't just about what you did, it's about who you did it to. It's about how your actions affected others, and how it changed us in ways you refused to let yourself feel.”

Lifting my chin higher, I refused to break eye contact with him. “Because it did change us, it changed not only my life but your son's too. It changed the life of your wife and the life of the unborn grandchild you're never going to be able to see. My gift to you is the same gift your actions gave my parents. You won't have the chance to be there and see him take his first steps, listen to his first words, or feel what it's like to have a grandchild hug you and love you. For our child, your memory will be a lie, just like my life. We won't share these details with him, we won't ever let him feel the hurt and pain that his grandfather caused in our world. But that pain, that pain is on you. Because I will be there, Birch will be there, and we're going to teach our son what it means to truly be loved.”

Nick dropped his chin into his chest as he eyed my growing stomach, knowing full well that I was right. But his eyes, his eyes said something else. They spoke to me, telling me that he knew, that he was okay with all of this because him behind bars meant his son wouldn't be.

My heart tore open for him. I was staring into the eyes of the father I had grown up with. The man who did love his family despite his addiction to power. He put himself here for his son, he did it to save us from anymore hurt.

He saved me from being alone.

I hated and loved this man all at once. It was confusing, mangling my thoughts into something that could never make sense to someone on the outside. You would have had to live it to understand.

Nick was like Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde. He killed my parents, he stole my memories and let me believe that my parents had abandoned me. But he also gave me a childhood, he gave me a family, he provided for me, he gifted his son to me and accepted me as one of his own.

There was good and bad inside this man, so naturally inside me there was love and hate.

Angling my head, I clutched the side of the podium and kept speaking. “I came here today, thinking that this one piece of paper was enough to show you how I felt. It's not, it never could be. What you took from me can never be replaced, but what you gave me, that's going to be my life. I love your son, and there's no doubt in my mind that you love him with everything you have. I don't question that, I don't even question if you have any love for me, because I know you do.”

His smile returned, giving me a subtle nod of appreciation.

“I guess, I guess what I really want you to know is that I forgive you.”

An audible gasp filled the courtroom, the onlookers all turning between themselves and whispering to each other.

Turing to face the room, I spoke loud and clear. “You can't live with hate in your heart, you just can't. And I refuse to let this define me, I refuse to let this live inside my heart like a disfigured monster I can't get rid of. In order to heal, you need to be able to forgive.” Twisting back to Nicholi, I smiled. “I forgive you. That doesn't mean I'll forget it, and it doesn't mean that it still won't affect me for years to come. But I won't live everyday hating you, it's not fair to me or to Birch, or the child we're going to bring into this world. No matter what, you're still Birch's father and he's your son, regardless of what you have done. And I know he still loves you.”

Sighing, I let my head tip forward, as everything that weighed me down suddenly lifted. “Some place inside you is the father he had, the one he still remembers and will never forget. That's the man our son will hear stories about, that's the man I'll think about when your name comes up or your grandson asks a question about when we were young. I hope it brings you some comfort to know that the picture we'll paint for him will be kind and gentle. That's my gift to you.”

Folding up the paper, I straightened my back, placing my hands on my belly. “My forgiveness wasn't an easy decision to make, but it was something I had to do. You erased a young girl from this world, you destroyed one soul and molded it into another. My memories were gone, but you filled my head with something else—a beautiful lie.”

Stepping down, I found my place next to Birch and hugged him. The tears came, stealing away any of the faces that looked at me like I was stupid for forgiving him.

But they hadn't been there. None of those people had gone through what I had.

All I cared about was how I would live with myself when this chapter of my life was over.

I wanted to be completely free.

And now I was.

* * * *

The taxi rolled to a stop outside a huge forest green colonial house. There was a big tree in the center of the front yard, and two tall spiral bushes perched outside the front door. White stones created a path from the driveway to the door, with large flat stones scattered up the center like floating lily pads.

“Thank you,” I said to the driver as I bundled up my purse and jacket and climbed from the car.

Birch unplugged the car seat, peeking under the small awning protecting our sleeping child. “He's still out like a light.”

“Well he cried the entire the flight, so I'm sure he's exhausted.” Chuckling, I lifted my eyes to the big house and my heart began to thud inside my chest.

“Do you have the baby bag?” he asked, slipping the handle of the car seat up his forearm and holding the bottom.

“Yeah, I got it.” Reaching onto the floor of the taxi, I grabbed the bag and slung it over my shoulder. “I can't believe we're here.”

“Are you nervous?”

“A little.” My lips crinkled and my eyes widened. “Are you?”

“Nope, I'm excited.”

A small cry escaped our son, and Birch began to rock the seat in his arms. “Shh,” he hushed softly. “Go back to sleep, Noor.”

Noor, it was a name we took time finding. It means light, and this little guy had given us just that. He had shed light in darkness, he had glowed when the world was dark. We had so much worth living for and all of it was inside that little boy.

The cab pulled away and Birch and I stood motionless in the driveway. I knew he was waiting for me, but taking the first step to that door was harder than I thought.

I was afraid that I wouldn't be who she expected. That my grandmother would open that door expecting to see the same girl she remembered from years ago.

Noor cooed and that sound made me rethink every thing I feared. I loved my son and my family, and I knew it wouldn't matter who or what they became.

Birch still loved his father, and a piece of me still loved him too. I didn't love the man that had caused me pain, but I did love the man that had given me happiness.

If I could do that, if I could find the good in someone so bad, then why would it be different for this woman?

Forcing my foot forward, I felt the rocks crunch under my sneakers as I kept my eyes on the door. My fingers tingled, eager to ring the bell and see the woman who had brought my mother into this world.

I wondered if I'd recognize my mother in her, if I'd be able to see all those small details that they shared.

Lifting my foot to the bottom step, the front door swung open and a tiny old lady grinned down at us from ear to ear. Her hands were cupped over her heart as tears spilled out from beneath the rim of her large round glasses.

Pushing the storm door open, the scent of chocolate chip cookies and flowers floated out, mingling with the crisp autumn air.

“Hello, my dear, I've been waiting for this day for a long time.” Stepping into the house, my grandmother twined her fingers into mine. “My God, you're beautiful, just like your mother.”

The warmth of her skin melted my heart and I cried with her. Pulling me in, she hugged me like we hadn't just spent almost a decade apart.

“I'm so happy to be here.” The words came out crumbled in tears and joy. “This is all I ever wanted.”

Pushing back, she turned to Birch and smiled. “Thank you,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck.

“I'd say you're welcome, but I don't know why you're thanking me.” Chuckling, he curled his free arm around her back.

Holding his shoulders, she pressed back and smiled. “Because you brought her back to me.” Kissing the side of his cheek, my grandmother took a step, and held both our hands. “Because now I have a piece of my daughter here with me again.”

To some a family is nothing more than a watering hole where you can get a hand out.

To some a family is nothing more than the people you'd rather never become.

But to me. . .

A family was a wish that finally came true; I would never take that for granted.

Because family are the only ones who will ever look past your faults and see the good inside. As long as you're willing to let them.