With nausea churning higher and higher up my throat, I put on the performance of a lifetime—or so I hoped—and grabbed their backpacks. “Who’s ready for a sleepover with Nana?”
“Me!” Micah exclaimed.
“Yay! Me!” Lily yelled.
I’d include Dad, but let’s face it. He wasn’t the funniest to be around unless you loved watching documentaries, playing golf, and talking about airplanes.
He plays golf with Ash.
Christ. How could we even disentangle our lives? Not only did Dad play golf with Ash, Theo, and their old man, but our parents enjoyed spending time together without us as well. Hell, they’d taken a New England cruise last fall. Our fathers wentfishing together. Our mothers called each other long before they called us about plans for the holidays and every birthday.
Juliana opened the door before I’d even left the driveway, and she was quick to light up and usher the kids inside.
She was also one of the perceptive ones. She knew Ash and I were struggling, so I hadn’t been surprised when she’d offered to watch the children today. The instant I had mentioned that Ash and I had some things to discuss, she’d told me to bring the little ones over early.
The children disappeared, including Hallie, and today was the day I didn’t ask if I could get a hug first. I’d see them this afternoon. By then, I planned on being hopped up on caffeine so I could fake a cheerful Thanksgiving mood.
I handed over the backpacks and tried not to throw up at the smell of food pouring out of the house. Any other day, I would’ve loved it.
“Ah, look at you,mijo.” Juliana reached up and cupped my cheek. “Whatever it is you’re fighting about—you’ll work it out, you hear? You and Ash belong together.”
I coughed into my fist as my body gave me a warning. I had to be behind closed doors fucking ASAP.
“I can tell it’s serious, but you will make it,” she said firmly.
My ability to fake a smile flew out the window. “We’ll see.”
“No.” She knitted her brows and hugged my middle quickly. “None of that. Maybe you have a rough period, yes? But you will make it.”
Saying it twice didn’t make it true, but whatever.
“Ash and I will be here at four,” I said instead. “Thank you for…you know.”
“Pshh—don’t. I love having them here.” She really did. She liked to say she’d been born to be a grandmother. “You go talk to Ash, okay?”
I nodded once.
I could postpone the meltdown, but I couldn’t stop from crying on the way home. Tears rolled down continuously, no matter how hard I tried to hold them back.
Thanksgiving traffic was brutal, so when I got stuck at a light, I pulled out my phone and texted Ash.
I dropped the kids off at my parents’. When will you be home? We need to talk about how to handle this breakup.
“Fuck.” I covered my mouth with my hand and screwed my eyes shut.
We’re over.
I’d never felt this kind of pain before. I’d never understood the full meaning ofheartbreak. And how it actually felt. But it really felt like my heart was breaking into pieces. Painful pressure and foggy numbness took turns controlling my chest, my stomach, and my head. They could change like a flip of a switch, and those sensations were in charge of my thoughts too. They pushed me between red-hot anger and crushing grief.
Was it my fault? Were we giving up too easily? Was I overreacting?
A few years ago, I never would’ve imagined this problem turning into something so huge. The good and the wonderful and the fucking perfect days had outweighed the few moments of fighting. But little by little, the bad had gained more ground. One issue had infected other areas.
Last month, I’d come home from work so ready to blow that I’d almost ripped Ash a new one for ordering takeout when I’d done the same thing. See, he had started laughing and saying “Great minds,” and I had just fucking lost it. Because in my head,I’d been all…why hadn’t he told me he was gonna order food? Why couldn’t he communicate with me?
He’d been understandably blindsided by my anger.
It wasn’t like I had communicated either.
