She looks at me for a long moment before she walks over to her car, slides in the front seat, and starts it. She waves once more to the boys before she looks at me and gives me a small wave.
That little action makes my heart warm, and I raise my hand to wave back. I watch as she pulls out of the spot, out of the parking lot, and down the road in the direction of our house.
"I love you," I whisper as I watch her drive away, taking a piece of my soul with her.
???
My mind won't stop racing as I lie in bed trying to sleep.
Truthfully, it hasn't stopped since we got back to the house.
Liam and Noah went up to their designated rooms without another word to me, the doors closing as a clear sign that they wanted to be alone.
I gave them that, knowing it was uncomfortable for them and that they needed to adjust. They're used to having sleepovers at this house; my parents are always eager to watch them, but they're not used to being here with just me.
My dad texted me that the surgery went well and they're going to discharge my mom on Saturday afternoon. Mom even got on the phone for a few minutes, sounding a little groggy, but said she's feeling fine, just eager to come home.
I think she and my dad are worried about the boys. The weekend I had been looking forward to, the day I could start repairing the relationship with my sons, has not started on a good note.
When Liam had charged into my office, thinking I was cheating on his Mama, I had thought that was it—my son would never forgive me for that. I had given Liam no reason to trust me.
But Wendy...
God, my wife is starting to trust me again.
That's something Dr. Wilson cautioned me that the hardest battle I was going to face was rebuilding trust.
While he said he wasn't a couple's therapist, he had patients in the past whose marriages eroded not from a lack of love, but from a complete lack of trust. Without that, there's nothing substantial for the relationship to be built upon.
Trust is a choice. Wendy chose to trust in my words that she is the love of my life and that there will never be another woman for me.
Whatever trust I've built back up with her for the last two months is so fragile, just a tiny little flame, but she trusted me yesterday, and that meant everything to me.
And it made me want to keep going. A confirmation that I am getting better, that it's not all bullshit, it's not all in my head.
All I've had to do is keep the course—attend therapy, take my meds, speak my feelings, thoughts, and fears.
It's hard. Every time I wake up after a nightmare, every timeI choke up when Dr. Wilson asks me a question that feels more like a stab to the heart, every time Dr. Newman tells me to describe my fearful thoughts and how often they occur. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. And it's working.
But I still need to make amends for the harm I caused.
I can see it now: the distance, the hidden pictures, gave Aubree the illusion of me being single. In the past, I knew women found me attractive, but I just didn’t care because all I'd ever seen was Wendy.
Everyone in town has always known us as Atlas and Wendy, not sold separately. Most women knew that they never had a chance with me, and I made sure men knew that I was Wendy's and they didn't have a shot in hell of getting rid of me.
Aubree is just my employee, which makes this a little more delicate to deal with, since there is a power dynamic.
I'll need to explicitly tell her that I am married, and that what I now recognize as her flirting is not appropriate. She's young, and I don't think she's malicious, but I need to set boundaries.
Maybe I'll even ask her if she wants to transfer to another location to avoid any discomfort or further embarrassment.
The main thing I need to focus on right now is rebuilding with my sons.
But saying things is easier than actually doing them.
It took until after eating our dinner of Chinese takeout to realize that not only do I not have everything handled, but I also don't know my sons anymore.
Worst part, I don't think I ever truly did.
