I can forgive Vivien for the part she played in the destruction of our lives. Mother to mother, I can feel her pain and her desire to do everything in her power to save her children. Cole Garrett Lafierre was only mine for a short while and yet I would have given anything… EVERYTHING to keep him safe. Vivien had twenty-eight years with Caroline. Twenty-eight years of watching her grow, loving her unconditionally and dreaming about the life and the future she wanted for her. Years and years of tucking her in at night, holding her close, running her hands through her hair and listening to her voice. Caroline was her child and all her hopes and dreams for the future were wrapped up in a beautiful girl with a twisted mind that she just wanted to save. That moment a week ago in the pouring rain, when a mother had to choose between her child’s life and that of a virtual stranger will forever haunt me.

And so will the words Cole spoke to me in misplaced anger and betrayal.

“He knows you loved him. He knows you will always love him,” Cole reminds me.

The guilt I carried around with me for so long washed away with the rain last week. There were forces at play beyond my control and I finally realized that no matter what I could have done differently, I couldn’t anticipate or stop a woman who was hell bent on ruining everything I held so dear.

Cole and I stand in front of our son’s grave, staring down at the single date carved in the granite. His entire life represented by one date and not a dash like so many other graves in this cemetery. Our son didn’t get the dash. He was robbed of the chance to see the world, to experience life and to grow into the amazing man I know he would have been some day. I held him in my arms for a moment, but I will carry him in my heart forever. It hurts to think about walking away and that’s why I’ve never come here. I can’t stand the thought of leaving him here in the cold, dark ground. I know now that he isn’t really there because I feel him in my heart and I see him in my dreams. I wanted a little boy to shower with love but instead, I’ve been given the gift of an angel who will stay with me forever.

“I’m so sorry, Olivia,” Cole finally speaks.

I hear a bird squawk in a nearby tree and I wonder if it’s our son, telling me it’s okay to walk away. I know I have to. I know I need to be strong, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I’m not only walking away from my little boy, I’m walking away from the man who holds my heart in his hands.

He can keep it. I have no use for it anymore.

“I know you are,” I tell him, refusing to turn around and look at him. I know how sorry he is. I listened to the pain in his voice on my voicemails and I saw it on his face when I went to Caroline’s funeral the other day and his eyes locked onto mine from across the crowd of people, refusing to let go.

“You didn’t give him my last name,” Cole mumbles.

I close my eyes and count to ten. Of course I didn’t give him the name Vargas. On the day he was born, I hated every single thing that last name represented. It was hard enough naming him after Cole, but it was something I had to do. He looked so much like his father. Even in death I hoped he’d be strong and fearless, just like him. I wanted that name to give him strength as he moved on and away from me. Once again, just like his father.

“You weren’t exactly there to sign the birth certificate,” I reply, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. There’s no use being mean. He knew he wasn’t there. He knew he’d failed me the day Cole Garrett was born. Saying it over and over again wouldn’t change that.

“I need you, Liv. Please, don’t leave me,” he begs.

I squeeze my eyes closed and try to calm my racing heart. This is why I didn’t want to have any contact with him right now. His words cut through me and make me want to change my mind, but I realized in the ambulance as we rode to the hospital with Caroline’s body that this is what I had to do.

“I gave you everything and you threw it all away, Cole. Not once, but twice,” I remind him, opening my eyes and staring down at my son’s grave, hoping it will give me the strength I need to get these words out.

“I can’t afford a third time. If you’re really sorry, if you really love me, then you’ll let me go,” I whisper.

I hear a sharp intake of breath behind me, but I don’t let it affect me.

“Liv, please,” he begs. “You are everything to me. EVERYTHING. I can’t live without you.”

I feel anger bubbling up inside of me and I clench my fists at my sides as I finally turn around to face him. I won’t allow myself to feel bad for the shadows I see under his eyes or the haggard, broken look on his face.

“Don’t put that on me! I can’t be everything to you, don’t you get that?” I ask him furiously. “I have nothing left. NOTHING! I gave you my heart, my soul, my trust and my future. It’s gone. I’m empty. I lost myself in you and I can’t do that again. I WON’T do it again. I’m sorry for everything that happened with your family, but I can’t forgive you for not trusting me. For not knowing me and believing in me.”

He takes a step towards me and I back away. I watch his face fall with sadness and the realization that he can’t change my mind.

“This is coming out all wrong. Fuck! Just give me a chance to explain, to do better,” he pleads.

I shake my head at him. “You’ve run out of chances, Cole. You can’t do better. You can’t always fix things. Sometimes they need to stay broken and all you can do is step around the pieces and start over. I need to start over, Cole. I can’t do that with you because I’ll always want to go back to those broken parts and try to make sense of them. You’ll always feel guilty and I’ll always try and heal you. I can’t live like that. I’ve spent my entire life taking care of people and I’m so damn tired of it. I have to go. And you have to let me.”