“Okay.” He lifts his gaze to meet mine.
I try not to think about the fact I won’t see him for an entire week—but it’s impossible. The longest I’ve been away from Edward until now has been an occasional overnight.
“Dani will be here if you or Uncle Beckett need anything.”
He’s old enough to understand I’m coming back, and that I’m only a phone call away, but still, guilt floods my brain and tears prick my eyes. I blink them back before they can fall. The last thing I want is to make this harder on my son.
“When does Uncle Beckett get here?” His gaze drops to his hands. He picks at the sticker on the back of one of his books.
I check my phone for the time. “He should be here in thirty minutes.” Which means I need to hit the road. “One more hug before I go?”
Edward leans into me, squeezing his arms around my body as I do the same. “I’ll miss you, Mama.”
I can’t reply. If I do, my voice will crack. I reel my emotions back, reminding myself that he’s safe and well cared for. That he’ll be here when I return, and that kids spend weeks away from their parents all the time. I kiss the top of his head and push off the bed after he releases me from his embrace.
“Love you.”
“Love you!” he calls back, and when I reach the door, he’s already back to reading his book.
I think of all the times in my life when books have provided me comfort. How many times they’ve been a portal to escape reality. It offers a tiny bit of comfort to know he has the same gift on the off chance the week isn’t everything he’s been promised.
I grab my bag and make my way to leave.
Dani is waiting in the kitchen with a reassuring smile. “Edward will be fine. Enjoy your vacation. I will be here if your uncle has any questions.”
I am so grateful for her. Not only has she worked as our full-time nanny for the past two years, but she’s agreed to stay at my house while Beckett is here this week.
“Thank you.” I blink back the impulse to cry.
This whole situation is fucked up, and I suddenly doubt my decision. Normally, when Beckett visits, I stay here too. But Edward isseven now, and when Beckett suggested I use this week to vacation elsewhere, I agreed.
“I will text you updates,” Dani says.
“Thank you.” I check my phone to see a message from Beckett. He’s reached the outskirts of town. I better get going. “Call me anytime.”
“I will. Now go! Enjoy yourself!”
In the garage, my bag lands with a thud in the passenger seat of my SUV. I check the contents of my vehicle against my packing list one last time before driving away. Blasting music with the intent to improve my mood, I quickly realize my heart can’t take the emotional tug, and I switch to an audiobook instead. Not that it’ll take long to reach my destination. It’s only a short drive.
Everyone thinks I’m heading to San Diego for the week.
And maybe that’s where I should be headed. Even with the financial security I have these days, I can’t bring myself to spend money on extravagances, especially when it comes to myself.
Besides, I want to be close enough to get to Edward within minutes in case of an emergency. Maybe if I trusted Beckett more, I could take the week to travel. But I don’t have that comfort with him, and he is still somewhat a stranger to Edward. I can’t just turn off my protective maternal instincts.
So, I made a choice.
A sliver of guilt invades my conscience for booking a cabin in Wilder Valley under an alias. Not just any cabin, either. One owned by the Wilder family.
It’s fine. This is one tiny little lie. I have to do it to protect myself. I can’t very well explain why to my friends, not without raising questions. And no one will ever know because I am not planning on leaving the cabin.
I turn down the private road that cuts through the Wilder Ranch property and follow the directions toward the rental. I’ve been to Ryan and Val’s many times, but never to this cabin. It’s where Mr. Wilder livedbefore going into memory care. The family put a lot of work into the place, fixing it up to be an income property, but I’ve only ever seen pictures. I’m excited to see the interior in person and make it my retreat from reality.
I could read.
I could drink my favorite wines.
I could write.
