The blood drained from my face, and I swallowed back a lump in my throat. "I do say that."
"So now you get to experience a school trip first."
I ran a hand through my hair, the coffee I had that morning turning sour in my stomach. "Shit. Baby, you can go. I'll stay and watch Sienna."
"No, Daddy!" Kehlani cried out as she bounded into the kitchen, her little face scrunched up. "I want you!"
Zara smiled sadly at me. "You heard her. She wants you. Besides, I assume you already signed your name on the permission slip?"
I nodded faintly.
"The school is really strict. It has to be the named person attending."
Bloody hell. How had this gone so horribly wrong? "I'm sorry, Zara." It was all I could offer her.
I'm sorry.
I love you.
Please don't leave me.
I can do better.
She shrugged before handing me Kehlani's school bag. "It's okay. I'm glad one of us is going. Have fun."
Chapter 8
Zara
Iwoke up the next morning, stretching widely as I floated gently out of my dream-like state. I stared up at the white ceiling, trying to figure out why something felt amiss.
My heart jumped, and I instantly sat up. My tired eyes frantically checked the time, and I swore roughly when I saw that it was ten a.m. It was Saturday, but the girls were usually up by seven. Why didn't they wake me? And where was James?
After splashing my face and brushing my teeth, I made my way downstairs, finding it odd that I hadn't heard anyone. Usually, the girls would be jumping around or arguing loudly about something, but I hadn't heard a peep.
The first thing that greeted me was the smell of food. It was faint; a savoury sweetness that clung to the air. I stopped short when I saw dishes on the bench: a few dirty plates, cutlery, and a bowl with a thick cream-like substance around the edges.
That's when I spied a note on the bench.
Hey, babe! I made pancakes for breakfast. Your stack is under the tea towel on the table. I've taken the kids to the playground. Eat and relax. Love you.
My brow creased as I scanned the note again. I glanced around the house, thinking that James and the girls would suddenly pop up. But the house was dead silent.
I was so confused. Pancakes? Love notes? Letting me sleep in? This wasn't my husband.
Well, it wasn't my husbandusually. James used to do sweet things like this all the time. Little love notes. Flowers that looked like they cost more than ten dollars. Date nights and spontaneous lovemaking. But since we'd had kids and I left my job as a primary school teacher to stay home with them, behaviours started to shift.
It was like I had three kids to take care of and scold. I hated nagging, but I felt like I'd been doing nothing lately but complain. I didn't feel appreciated, and I was constantly tired and frustrated with his attitude. Everything was a joke to him, or something that he could carelessly brush aside.
Our Valentine's dinner had hurt me so badly that I ended up calling my mum in the middle of her night. I had an overwhelming urge to apologise to her for being such a shitty teen. She was a supermum, my hero and a great role model. I'd just been so confused as to why she'd left my dad; seemingly for no apparent reason. But I got it now. I understood her so much better, and that lingering resentment I still held over their divorce now turned into shame.
Did I want to divorce James? Some days, yes. Some days, when my phone was quiet from his communication and the kids were crazy...I imagined what it would be like to just not care.
But lately...lately, it was nice. I knew he felt terrible about Valentine's, and this was likely the consequence of his guilt. How long it would last for would remain to be seen.
I lifted the tea towel, and my mouth curved at the sight of two nearly burned pancakes. One was huge, and the other was about half its size. It still felt faintly warm, so James and the girls were not long gone. I slathered on butter and jam, then scoffed it down with a cup of coffee.
After that, I did the dishes and wiped down the stove where the cake batter had dried. I ended up having a little tidy up around the kitchen before mopping the floors. It was so much easier to do them when the kids weren't bouncing around in my way.
