“Okay,” he says mid-bite, looking at me and waiting for me to speak. I draw a deep breath and try to sound as nonaccusatory as possible.

“Did you leave Mom?” I ask. “Or did Mom leave you?”

My father swallows his mouthful of bagel and cream cheese and takes a long sip of his coffee. My stomach is swimming, and my heart is pounding.

“What did she say?” he asks. “Did you ask her?”

“She said you left us.”

My father sighs. He studies the inside of his coffee mug intently, and I suspect that he’s intentionally avoiding my gaze. I remind myself to breathe properly, like my vocal coaches have taught me. I keep wanting to hold my breath.

“Star, relationships are very complicated,” he begins slowly. I blink at him. This isn’t exactly an answer. “Your mother and I tried to work things out. We really did. She’s a wonderful lady, your mom. But sometimes you think you’re compatible with someone and then things change.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

My dad looks sideways at me and exhales loudly.

“If I could go back and change things, Star, I would,” he says. “I made some mistakes that I’m not proud of. Your mom and I, we weren’t right for each other. And I had to make a decision to save us both from being miserable for the rest of our lives.”

“So you left her?” I ask him. “You left us?”

My father nods slowly. “But I wasn’t leaving you, honey. This was between your mother and me. I never meant to leave you.”

“But you signed away custody,” I say. “Mom showed me the letter from your attorneys.”

A shadow crosses my father’s face.

“She did?” he asks.

I don’t want to cry. I want to understand his explanation. I try my best to listen.

“I was a lot younger then,” he says. He looks down at his mug for a while then back up at me. His eyes meet mine. “It was a mistake. A serious, stupid mistake that I’ve spent my whole life regretting.”

“You’ve regretted it because I became famous?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “Or because you missed seeing me grow up?”

“Oh, Star!” my father exclaims. “No, it wasn’t the fame thing! I hated missing your childhood. Those are years we can never get back, and that’s my fault for throwing that away. I’m so sorry.”

I think about this for a minute. He sounds sincere.

“But how could you just walk out on your own child?” I ask. I’m trying hard to understand. I really am. My father pauses for a moment.

“I was a different man then,” he says. “And I made a mistake that will haunt me for the rest of my life.”