The drive from my old home to my new apartment was only two minutes. And if I hadn’t had to take Delilah to the doctor today, I would have been able to walk. Not many people would have moved within walking distance to their ex, but not many people had walked in my shoes.
As proud as I may have been over my ability to handle my new and very uncertain circumstances with Simon and Delilah, I wallowed in my loneliness as soon as I walked into my apartment. Grabbing the remote, I flopped onto the couch.
The Rangers were on.
“Shit,” I cursed the television as if it had devised some master plan to amplify my desperation. As if they had a mind of their own, my fingers twitched with the urge to call Jude. I sat there, staring at the baseball game I knew he would be watching, and thought about the advice I would give my sons. How would I teach them to approach the things they wanted in life? Would I tell them to cower behind the reasons it might not work out? Or would I teach them to fight for their dreams, to work passionately for the things that brought them happiness?
Would I teach them to cover up their emotions, the way my father had done to me? Or would I encourage them to fight for the people who mattered the most to them?
Anxiety rushed through my body as if it were a living being, flying through the room, swooping down over me. I pulled out my phone, my fingers ghosting over the picture of the two of us serving as my screen saver. God, I missed him.
That thought alone made me dial his number.
My heart thumped a wild rhythm in my chest, but as each second passed, the call going unanswered, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d simply been too late.
I’ve waited too long.
He’s moved on.
He doesn’t love me the way he said he did.
I hurt him too much.
Rage fired through my body and I yelled, throwing my phone against the wall. “Stupid fuck,” I cursed myself. Struggling to breathe, my chest heaved. But rather than letting the panic get the best of me, I recognized it, sank back onto the couch, and steadied my shaking hands. With a few deep breaths, some of the anger dissipated. Eventually, my pulse calmed and I could see straight.
Damn it.
Before picking up the line for the house phone, I looked at my watch to make sure it wasn’t too late to call. But it could have been two in the morning and I still would have done it.
“Hello? May I ask who’s calling?” Simon repeated the line we’d taught him as he answered my call, making me smile wider than I should have been at that moment.
“Hey, buddy. It’s Daddy.”
“Hi!” he called out excitedly into the line. “I had three cookies for dessert. And guess what?”
“What’s that?” I laughed. He was always so excited to talk on the phone. I’d put money on the fact that he’d be pacing around the living room, using his other hand to gesture as he spoke.
“Mommy had five,” he whispered as if he was telling me the greatest secret of all time.
“Hey,” Delilah’s voice called out from the background. “Give me that phone!” she demanded in a playful tone. “I didnoteat five cookies,” she defended, sounding absolutely insulted by what Simon had told me. After telling Simon to go brush his teeth, she returned her attention back to the call. “I had seven,” she admitted, laughing.
“You’re eating for two, so I say go for it.”
“Well, you remember how much troubleeating for twogot me into with Simon,” she reminisced. She’d gained sixty-five pounds with him. Not wanting to walk down that road, she quickly changed the subject. “So what’s up, buttercup?”
“I was just calling to let you know my cell isn’t working, so if you need me, you’ll have to call the house.”
“What did you do, Micah?” she asked, mocking accusation.
“Nothing.” I huffed, knowing she had me figured out. “I’ll talk to you later. Give Simon a kiss goodnight for me.” Before she asked anything else, I ended the call.
“So much for that, huh, Sarge?” He looked up at me, cocking his head to the side as if he actually understood me. “How about a pizza?” Now that word he understood. It was pretty much what I’d lived on recently, and Sarge was a big fan of the crust.
So with my evening pathetically wide open, I ordered take out before taking a quick shower. I needed a few minutes of scalding hot water to distract me from everything else.
Angling my body so that the water hit the sore muscles of my back, I let the heat work its magic. Even though I didn’t have much in terms of possessions, I also didn’t have much in the means of help. Delilah was the only person I had here in California, and there was no way I was asking her to help me. Simon “helped,” but that usually made more work for me in the end.
Sadly, the only other person I had was Jude. And I didn’t even have him anymore.
