As if she has a sixth sense, Ellie’s text comes through.
Ellie: Don’t worry about Josie, Lola will do great! YOU’RE A WONDERFUL MOM!
Me: ARE YOU SURE?
Feeling completely pathetic, I wipe the snot from my nose and pull out of Lola’s driveway. Once I hit the dirt road, Iglance back. Lola is on the porch holding Josie and it’s as if my heart is beating outside of my chest on that stoop as I pull away.
The urge to call Steven comes like a wave. But after this morning, I’m not sure if I should.You’re weak. Needing him makes you weak. So I text him instead.
Me: Dropped Josie off, I’ll pick her up and meet you at the boys’ jiu jitsu.
Me: I love you
Saying those three words lately has started to feel hollow. Like the true meaning and its magnitude has started to fade, slowly being replaced with obligation instead of true devotion.
A few miles from Lola’s house, everything starts to build, my breathing uneven and shallow, stars dotting my vision. My fingers feel hot against the steering wheel. I try to ignore it, telling myself to get back to the school and finish the day.
But I can’t. The monster is now threatening to suffocate me as I screech to a halt under the shade of a crooked old tree in someone’s front yard. I close my eyes, willing myself to stay in control.
Last night’s therapy session with Steven starts to replay in my head. The tension, the frustration, the silence that only comes when I feel like there’s no other option. There’s some foreign barrier between us, like we’re speaking two different languages, and I can’t find the energy or will to relearn everything with him right now.
My breath hitches at the thought of being so far from him, ragged and teetering on hyperventilation.
I clutch the steering wheel, my skin sticky against the leather. I try my breathing cycle. My senses exercises. Nothing works.
I relent, accepting Steven is my answer. Even when he’s not here, he’s still fixing me. Fixing us. Even in this foreign state of ourrelationship, I know he can help me gain some sense of control.
“I’ll just leave a voicemail,” I sniffle, dialing him.
A woman answers after the first ring. “Emma?”
“Um…hello?” My body jolts upright, the sound of another woman on the other end only worsens my panic. “Who is this?”
“Emma, this is Jessee, one of Steven’s coworkers—”
“Why do you have my husband’s phone?”
Her voice wavers. “It’s Steven… There’s been an accident.” Her words are swallowed by the sound of my heartbeat roaring in my ears.
“Emma?” Jessee says. “Can you get here?”
“I’m on my way.”
Chapterfifteen
Steven
Painpulsesthroughmyskull. It’s so strong and relentless that opening my eyes is near impossible. They flutter open, barely, and a bright light obscures my vision. I shut them again, groaning at the pain that now ripples down my into jaw.
“Dr. Jones, can you hear me?”
A female’s voice, fuzzy and unfamiliar, calls to me—or I think she’s talking to me.
“Jones,” she says again, and I force my eyes open. The world around me is blurry but bright, with blaring white streams of light piercing around this person’s silhouette.
“Dr. Jones, can you blink for me?”
I blink, half because she asks, and half because she won’t stop shining another light in my eyes.
