The next few weeks/days/hours I moved through the motions of my life like a ghost, barely present. Somehow, the kids didn’t notice anything was wrong. Jason was gone so much recently that his absence didn’t feel out of the ordinary.
Later in the week, Jason called. His voice was careful, measured. “Can I take Bebe and James to dinner tonight?” he asked.
“They would love that,” I said, forcing my voice to sound normal.
When Jason arrived at the house, Bebe tilted her head. “Why aren’t you coming, Mom?” Her innocent curiosity bruised me, but I forced a smile.
“I have to catch up on some laundry,” I said, feigning a casual tone. “It’s Daddy’s special night with you guys.”
Skipping toward the door, she seemed satisfied with the answer. The moment the door closed, the house felt impossibly quiet, like all life had been drained from it.
The silence pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating, until I finally reached for my phone. I called Meredith.
“Nat, pour yourself a glass of wine,” she said as soon as she answered. “And then go smoke a joint.”
I laughed despite myself. “You know drugs are not always the answer, right?”
“Right now, you don’t need answers,” she countered. Her tone was playful but firm. “You need to numb yourself for a bit. Stop thinking so damn much.”
“Okay,” I murmured.
When Jason and the kids came back, I heard their excited chatter before the door even opened. Bebe burst into the house, her arms full of stuffed animals and a giant rainbow slinky. James followed close behind, clutching a bag of candy and a toy basketball hoop.
“Mommy!” Bebe squealed, running into the room. “We went to Dave & Buster’s! Daddy let us play so many games and look what I won!”
She spread the stuffed animals out on the floor like a proud collector showing off her treasures.
James chimed in. His eyes were wide with excitement. “I got the most tickets from this claw machine, Mommy. And Daddy won us a bunch, too!”
Jason walked in a few moments later, holding two plastic cups filled with red slushy. “We might have overdone it a little,” he said with a sheepish grin, setting the cups down on the counter. “But they had fun.”
The kids launched into more stories, their voices overlapping as they described the arcade games, the flashing lights, and the prizes they picked out. I smiled briefly, letting their joy fill the room, but underneath it, a pang of sadness lingered.
Jason caught my eye, and his expression softened. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the moment passed, and instead, he ruffled James’ hair.
After the kids ran off to put their prizes in their rooms, Jason lingered near the doorway. He rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating.
“Natalie,” he said finally, his tone careful, “would it be okay if I stayed here tonight? In the guest room?”
I looked at him for a long moment, trying to gauge his expression. There was no trace of anger or blame, just exhaustion and something that almost looked like hope.
“Of course,” I said quietly, my voice steady.
He nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thank you.”
Jason turned around and without another word headed toward the guest room. I heard the door click shut behind him. I stayed where I was as the silence once again enveloped me. Even though we were under the same roof, Jason felt farther away than ever.
Is this it?Was this how our story ended? Not with a bang, but with a slow, painful unraveling? Would this be our future? Jason taking the kids to Dave & Buster’s, winning prizes andplaying games, while I stayed home alone, watching bad TV and drowning in the silence?
The thought settled over me like a heavy fog, thick and inescapable.
I tried to picture another version of us, one where we found our way back to each other, where the house was filled with laughter we shared, not just the kids’ joy carried back from somewhere I wasn’t. But I couldn’t see it. The gap between us felt too wide. The cracks were too deep.
I didn’t have the answers. And as the ache in my chest grew heavier all I knew was that something had to change.
CHAPTER 41
THE POWER PLAY
