I'm not alone. I have Wendy. I have my parents.
I have my family. I'm not alone. I'm safe.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Repeat.
Wendy clears her throat, the emotion becoming a little too heavy to stand in.
"The boys have their bags, but if they need anything, just call me, and I can run it over. I'm gonna go say goodbye to them," she says, before turning toward the door.
"Wendy," I say, and she faces me, eyebrow raised in question.
With shaky hands, I open my desk drawer, the bottom one that holds my entire world.
One by one, I take the photos and place them around the room.
Our wedding photo, Wendy pregnant with Liam, both of us cradling her belly as I kiss her. Wendy holding baby Liam, smiling at the camera. Me with Noah on my shoulders and Liam mid-laugh at the beach. A photo of Wendy and me at the overlook in front of the setting sun. And so many more.
I place them on my desk, on the shelves, on any flat surface I can, just as they had been before.
When I'm done and satisfied that my family's faces are displayed loud and proud
Wendy's face softens as she looks at each one. I feel it all the way to my bones when she smiles.
"That's better."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Atlas
Watching my sons say goodbye to their Mama for the weekend is hard.
When we walk out to my truck after locking up the shop, Noah finally realizes that he's not going to see Wendy for an entire weekend.
He breaks into tears, dragging his feet and tugging on Wendy's hand.
"Mama, I don't wanna go," he cries, and—fuck, that hurts.
I don't blame him; he's attached to Wendy, and this is new, and change is scary. Honestly, he's acting how I wanted to when my parents dropped me off at Story Grove, terrified of the unknown.
"You're just going to go to Mom-Mom and Pop's house, it's okay, baby—it's just for the weekend, and you're gonna spend time with your Daddy and have so much fun," Wendy says, her words soft and soothing, words that I think are meant for her, too.
It takes twenty minutes for Wendy to calm Noah down, crouched on the ground in front of him, speaking softly and talking him through his tears.
Liam had stomped to the backseat and thrown his bag in before sitting down and slamming the door closed, still a little sour from earlier.
I start my truck to get the heat going, feeling like shit as I watch the scene in front of me and hang back to let Wendywork her magic.
My heart breaks with every tear sliding down my son's cheeks. Then I see Wendy's own eyes welling up with tears that she's desperately trying to push down, and it feels like a chasm has opened in my chest.
"I'm gonna m-miss you," Noah hiccups through his tears, his face buried in Wendy's shoulder.
"I'm gonna miss you too, baby, but it's just the weekend. And I'm just a phone call away. You can call me every night before bed," Wendy murmurs, leaning back to brush Noah's tears from his cheeks.
"Promise?"
"I promise," Wendy kisses his head and then brings him to the backseat, opening the door and placing his bag in the back.
Noah climbs in, and Wendy gets him buckled and settled before she circles around the car to Liam's side. Our oldest begrudgingly lowers his window for Wendy, who leans in and whispers something too low for me to hear.
