“Look again!”
“I’m still seeing.”
She laughs and dunks her toy under the water.Afterward, I wrap her in a towel and carry her to her room, her damp hair leaving little drops against my shoulder.The day is coming where I won’t be able to lift her and carry her to her room like this.She’s getting bigger and while it’s fun to do more things with her, the mom heart inside me breaks at the idea of her growing up so fast.She is the greatest achievement of my life and my entire world.The days may be long, but the years go by fast.
We change into pajamas.Brush teeth.And then we settle into bed with her favorite book.
“The bunny one,” she insists.
“Again?”
“Yes.”
I smile and give in.“Okay.”
I read, my voice soft and steady as she curls against me, her small hand clutching the edge of my old t-shirt that I wear around the house.Halfway through the story, her breathing slows.By the end, she’s asleep.I set the book aside and carefully slide out from under her, tucking the blanket up to her chin.
For a moment, I just stand there.Watching her.Making sure.Always making sure.Then I turn off the lamp and pull the door mostly closed.The house feels different at night.
Quieter.
Bigger.
Lonelier.
I move through the kitchen, cleaning up the last of the dishes, wiping down the counters, putting things back where they belong.Keeping busy.Because when I stop moving, I think.And tonight, my thoughts aren’t kind.
Clint.His voice.His anger.The memories of the hard days, the fear.A shiver runs down my spine.I shake it off and head to the bathroom.Routine helps.It always has.It’s how I survived our marriage.
He’s the reason I can’t answer Roger’s calls.Early on at the diner, Roger came in and asked me for my number.I didn’t give it to him right away.He seemed nice enough, at first, but don’t they all.After the first call I didn’t answer that sent him giving me a barrage of questions, he reminded me too much of life with Clint.I guess I have a type … possessive, demanding, controlling, and manipulative.Roger behaves too much like my ex-husband and I do not need that in my life.
I change into my nightgown, pulling a soft robe over it.Wash my face.Brush my teeth.Tie my hair up loosely.
Normal things.
Safe things.
By the time I step into my bedroom, I’m exhausted.I pull back the covers and sit on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.How long?
The question creeps in quietly.How long before things settle again?Before my life feels stable?How long until Clint finds me and starts again?How long until I am back to begging for him to stop showing up, stop calling, and to stop pushing me for access to my daughter?How long until there aren’t constant reminders that my peace is always temporary?
I exhale slowly, wrapping my arms around myself.It’s not just fear.It’s the loneliness too.The kind that sneaks in when the house is quiet and the day is done and there’s no one to lean on.No one to share the weight.No one to say,I’ve got you.
I think about this morning.About Tucker sitting at the counter.About the way he stepped in without hesitation.The way he made Roger leave without even raising his voice.The way I felt cocooned.Safe.
I shake my head.
This is dangerous thinking.Men like Tucker don’t belong in lives like mine.They don’t stay.They don’t build anything steady.They burn hot and fast and leave wreckage behind.
I know better.I stand, pulling the covers back further.Time for bed.Time to sleep.Time to dream about the better days ahead.
The doorbell rings.Sharp.Loud.Stifling contrast to the quiet of the night.
My entire body locks.For a second I don’t move.Don’t breathe.
The bell rings again.
My heart starts pounding.I glance toward the hallway.
