I sit in silence and watch my boys play together until said pizza arrives. At first, Karan focuses on the boys, setting them up with a slice of pizza each along with some napkins to use as makeshift plates on the small corner table.
But when he’s done, he turns his attention to me.
“You should eat something,” he says, sitting next to me with a napkin and a slice of pizza in one hand. “At least a little bit. Won’t you do that for me, Rachel?”
I don’t move or speak.
Karan strokes my cheek with his thumb, and my chest swells, a lump forming in my throat. “Please. Rachel. Come back to me.”
I blink a few times, and finally turn to look him in the eye. With the glass globe finally vanished from my head, reality crashes into me with full force, and the tears start falling again, this time softly instead of sobs.
I don’t say anything yet, but I accept the slice of pizza from Karan and take a nibble.
He smiles, though his eyes become watery. “Good. That’s good, Rachel. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Guilt rears its ugly head at the thought that mere hours ago, I was the one going somewhere. Intent on leaving.
I had my reasons. Now, everything is different.
I swallow the small nibble of pizza, then set it down on my thighs and look up at Karan through my tears.
“Karan, I’m so, so sorry.”
“No.” He shakes his head, his voice gravelly. “You have nothing to apologize for, you hear me? Absolutely nothing. So I don’t want to hear it.”
“You don’t even know what happened.”
“I don’t care. You can tell me later. For now, I just want you to stop eventhinkingabout apologizing, okay?” He wipes away a tear with his thumb. “My beautiful Rachel. You’re the one who was right, all along. And I’m the one who’s sorry it took me so long to see all the control they had over me.”
“Mommy,” Cayce calls from the table, his mouth full of pizza. “Are you okay, now?”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Karan chides.
“I’m okay,” I half-lie, forcing a tearful smile to share with my sons. “Mommy’s going to be okay.”
That’s closer to the truth.
I take another bite of pizza, swallow, then set it down again and lean against Karan, letting his warmth comfort me. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being there for me.”
“That’s what we do.”
“I know, but I shouldn’t have doubted you. I shouldn’t have stormed out earlier. I should have stayed and heard you out…”
“Rachel.” He strokes my hair, placing a loose strand behind my ear. “It’s in the past, okay? No matter what happens now, we’re in this together.”
He looks over at our sons, who are devouring their pizza, still oblivious to the conflict we’ve thrown them in.
“It’s the four of us against the world,” he adds.
“Yes. Okay.”
The guilt doesn’t go away—not completely, but the idea of the four of us as one strong unit gives me enough hope to at least wage war against it and keep it at bay.
Once everyone has had their fill of pizza, Karan and I both help the boys through their evening routine; bathtime, brushing their teeth, getting into their PJs, and finally, letting them crawl into bed with us. It’s a tight fit, with this bed being a double and nota queen, and with Karan’s size being what it is, but we make it work.
