But as I look at the five children who are now my responsibility, and at the woman who chose another man over me, I wonder if together is even possible.
Or if wanting her will destroy everything I'm trying to protect.
CHAPTERTWO
evangeline
I haven't sleptin thirty-six hours, and my body feels like it's running on nothing but grief and coffee.The foster home's guest room is small and cramped, but I couldn't leave the children.Not after what happened.Not when they keep asking where their parents are with those wide, confused eyes.
I'm sitting on the floor of the living room, sixteen-year-old Mason beside me as we go through funeral home brochures.His jaw is set in that stubborn way that reminds me so much of Marcus it makes my chest ache.The younger kids are scattered around us, some coloring, others just staring at nothing.
"This one looks nice," I say softly, pointing to a picture of a chapel with stained glass windows.My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears.
Mason shrugs."Mom would have wanted something simple.She hated fancy stuff."
He's right.Calla always preferred backyard barbecues to fancy restaurants, jeans to cocktail dresses.She was so different from me in that way.While I was drowning in charity galas and society events with Ethan, she was building a real life with Marcus and their children.
Guilt claws at my throat.When was the last time I really talked to her?Really spent time with her without checking my phone or making excuses to leave early?
Three weeks ago at Sunday dinner.She'd seemed distracted; kept checking her phone and jumping at every little noise.When I asked if everything was okay, she just smiled and said work had been stressful.
Work.Marcus was an accountant at a small firm downtown.What kind of stress could he have had that would lead to...this?
"Aunt Evie?"Eight-year-old Sophie crawls into my lap, her small body warm against mine."When are Mama and Daddy coming back?"
The question hits me like a physical blow.I've been dreading it all morning, hoping someone else would field it.But it's just me and the kids right now.Mrs.Lyndsay went to the store, and Ethan...
Ethan went back to his office.He said he had important calls to make.
"Oh, sweetheart," I whisper, pulling Sophie closer."Remember what we talked about?Mama and Daddy...they can't come back.But you're going to be okay.We're going to take care of you."
"All of us?"she asks, looking around at her siblings.
"All of you," I promise, even though I have no idea how I'm going to make that work.My apartment is a one-bedroom in the financial district.Ethan's place isn't much bigger.We'd talked about getting a house after the wedding, but that was supposed to be for us.For the quiet, orderly life he'd planned out for us.
Not for five grieving children who need stability and love and so much more than I know how to give.
"I miss them," Sophie whispers against my shoulder.
"I know, baby.I miss them too."
The memory of that last dinner with Calla hits me again.She'd barely touched her food; kept glancing toward the windows like she expected someone to be watching.When four-year-old Lily dropped her sippy cup, Calla jumped like a gunshot had gone off.
"Marcus has been working late a lot,"she'd said when I pressed her about it."New client.High maintenance."
But there had been something in her eyes.Fear, maybe, or worry—certainly something that went deeper than work stress.
Why didn't I push harder?Why didn't I insist she tell me what was really wrong?
"Aunt Evie, you're squeezing too tight," Sophie says, and I realize my arms have tightened around her.
"Sorry, sweetheart."I loosen my grip, forcing my breathing to steady.The children need me to be strong right now.I can fall apart later, when they're asleep and can't see me break.
Thirteen-year-old Emma looks up from her coloring book."Are we going to live together forever now?"
The question hangs in the air, heavy with implications.Forever.Such a big word for something I have no idea how to navigate.
"We're going to figure it out," I tell her."All of us together."
