With a quiet nod and a pat on his knee, he rises to walk over to me. He straightens my tie and brushes off my shoulders before his hands still. Then comes that look. The kind kids hold onto in their dreams. The look of a father who loves you more than words can carry, and who’s hurting a little as he watches you grow up right in front of him.
With tears in his eyes, he says, “I hope I don’t ever forget this day.”
Chaptereight
Emma
“Goodevening,Mrs.Jones.”Dr. Belo smiles as I barrel through her office door. She gestures to the empty couch, and I drop into it, my eyes immediately flicking to the door behind me. Steven isn’t here yet.
“Right on time,” she adds, and I check the clock above the couch opposite her.3:59 pm.She must do this to test me, poke at my compulsions. Dr. Belo has been my therapist for almost ten years. She was the first person to tell me I’m too anal, too much of a perfectionist. She knows that after I had the boys, my once-flawless punctuality was obliterated for months, and it ate away at me. The fact that I didn’t get here ten minutes early is already pressing against my chest like a weight. If I let myself think about it too long, it might give me an ulcer.
“How are you doing?” she asks.
“I’m fine,” I lie as the last thirty minutes replay in my head.
She gives me a look, disbelief deepening her crow’s feet. Then comes her signature sequence: the subtle chew on the inside of her cheek, fingers tapping, head cocked just so.
It’s ridiculous, really, how effective it is. My own personal truth serum. She doesn’t have to say a word. Just go through these motions, one by one, and I’m an open book.
So she does.
And I unload.
“I don’t understand why he’s not here yet!” I snip. “I’m sure it’s work. It’s always work, and I won’t say anything about it. I know he’s exhausted. I’m exhausted too. Look at me!”
I throw my hands up toward my head, looking wilder than I should. “My day was chaotic. We all had to share a car today—Steven’s car, which is so tiny it’s like a clown car when we climb out of it. He got snippy with Sawyer then with me. Then he sent flowers, which were pretty, but ginormous. They fell on the floorboard, and who knows, he might think I did it on purpose.”
She arches a brow at me. “Okay, he won’t, but I’ll think he thinks that, and that’s our problem. Just assuming but not talking. Too exhausted to even try. Then I had to rush my meeting today, rush home to check on the baby, and then get herebeforefour o’clock, mind you. And he said he’d walk from the hospital, so of course he won’t be here on time anyway, because it’s five blocks away.” I gesture wildly to the clock hanging above my head.
Dr. Belo listens, crossing her legs and pulling out her notepad.
“And I think I’m getting a sinus infection.” I practically whimper this because the timing is annoying. “I can’t stop sneezing. My throat feels like someone has shoved a handful of Tic Tacs back there, and they won’t go down. I can’t tell anyone this because a sinus infection isn’t enough to slow me down with everything going on. And my boobs hurt all the time. My hair is falling out. I finally just cut it myself because I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“It looks nice,” she says.
“I’m already down two teachers this semester, just hired a new guy too, but of course he wants to do football, not theater or arts, which is what we need help with. The boys’ birthday is coming up, and I haven’t even ordered a cake. And Josie is with the nanny. For the first time in four months, she is with someone who isn’t me, and I can't even convince myself that it’s okay. I just have to stay busy, constantly moving, not thinking, just going, until I can get home and be with her.” My chest is aching now, andsweat pools under my arms. “And I have no idea how to tell my husband I’m over here drowning.”
I want to cry. Dr. Belo can tell I do too. But I don’t. I just inhale a sharp breath, pinch the bridge of my nose, and rest my head back against the wall.
A gentle tap-tap breaks the awkward quiet that follows my outburst. Steven steps inside, looking tired and sweaty.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” he whispers, quietly clicking the door shut behind him.
“Hi,” he whispers.
“Hi,” I say.
He stands in the doorway, looking at me. The exhaustion seems to melt from his eyes, like just seeing me is enough to breathe life back into him after a grueling shift. The sight makes my stomach clench.
But then he blinks, and his face shifts. Everything shifts. He straightens, puts on a fake smile, and his eyes go cold as he greets Dr. Belo.
He hesitates then sits beside me, leaving too much space. It’s like he can’t decide if he wants to be close or not. I hate it, because I’d probably do the same. Just another Tuesday with the Joneses, I guess.
“So”—Dr. Belo eyes the gap between us knowingly—“how are we doing?”
Steven clears his throat but doesn’t say anything. Neither of us does.
After a beat of silence, she continues, “Look, I know this is hard. Separation isn’t easy—”
