“I’m serious. It’s nice to know we’re all human. Feeling things, even the bad stuff, reminds us of that.”
“Tell your son that,” I mutter, hating how pathetic I sound. I keep comparing how I’m handling all this to how Steven is. Which is ridiculous. He lost his memories. I didn’t.
“I’ve tried,” Tom says. “But youknow how he is.”
“I do.”
“Can I tell you something?” He stops rocking and turns to face me.
“Always.”
“I almost left Donna once.”
I sit up, startled. “Are you serious?”
“It was a long time ago, but yes.” He turns back toward the fields. The cows have abandoned the trough and migrated closer. Their tails swat lazily as they linger along the barbed fence. “The kids were young; Steven was only five.”
I wait, holding my breath. Tom and Donna have always been a power couple in my mind. Unshakeable in every sense of the word. Even against her diagnosis, they were unstoppable. Hearing this knocks me slightly off-center. I wonder if Steven knows.
“I used to have a temper,” Tom says quietly, cutting a glance at me like he’s afraid I’ll judge him. “I don’t know if Steven told you about that.”
“He mentioned you had big emotions when he was little. Nothing bad,” I reassure him, leaving out the small details. He did tell me his dad struggled with anger, never to a severe point, but enough that it had a lasting impression. It shaped Steven into someone who buries every frustration until it explodes.
Tom hums in acknowledgement. “Well, I went through a season where everything made me mad. My job. The kids. Even Donna, if you can believe it. The littlest thing would set me off, and I’d stomp around like a child.” He laughs softly at himself, shame and self-awareness mingling. “So, one day, I told Donna I was leaving her.”
I gape at him, righteous anger flaring red hot behind my ribs.
“You know what she said?” He laughs again, lighter this time. “‘No, you’re not.’”
He mimics her voice, smiling wide, the memory that seems like a bad one lighting up his features as it all comes flooding back to him.
“She didn’t let you leave?” I ask.
“She didn’t let me make a stupid decision.” The fondness that shines in his eyes tugs at the spaces between my ribs, spreading warmth and fullness there. “She knew I loved her. She knew I loved our kids. I didn’t really want to leave them.”
“Then why did you tell her that?” My confusion is clear as my mouth hangs wide open.
He sighs and there’s a weightiness to it I’m not used to. “Because I thought I was a poison to our lives. I added more stress than I should’ve. Instead of making things easier for my wife, I made it harder. She had to worry about me and my emotions, in addition to taking care of the kids. I knew she could handle it without me; she was a rockstar. She is a rockstar. And I guess a part of me thought they would all be better off without me. You know what I mean?” He gives me a look that tells me he already knows the answer to this.
I hum, knowing all too well what he means. Pressure builds behind my eyes, and I have to look away, focusing on the clouds drifting across the sky.
“You know what she said next?” he asks.
“What’s that?”
“She told me I was right.”
I laugh, surprised. “What?”
“She said she could handle it all without me.” He shrugs, and I can almost hear Donna’s blunt honesty. The image fills me with something bittersweet. “She knew how strong she was, how capable she was. She could conquer the world if she wanted.”
“I believe that.”
“But she told me she didn’twantto do it alone. She wanted me with her, even if I was grumpy half the time.” Emotion gathers in his eyes, and he chuckles softly. “We’re not perfect people, Emma. But we stuck it out together. And even with where we are now…” He sniffs, wiping at the tears that haven’t spilled yet. “I wouldn’t trade her for the world.”
I squeeze his hand. “I know you wouldn’t.”
He squeezes back before standing. “Steven is lucky to have you.”
