I go to the kitchen, and she follows, sitting at the island while I pour her a cup the way she likes without thinking about it. Milk and two sugars. “How is she?” she asks, wrapping her hands around the cup when I slide it to her.
“I don’t know.” I stay on the opposite side of the island, leaving the space between us. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. My own daughter was hurting, and I didn’t even realize until it was almost too late.”
Jess looks down at her cup, a frown tugging at her lips. “At least you were here.”
It’s my automatic instinct to comfort my wife. To tell her something to make her feel better. But she’s not wrong this time, and I can’t deny that her leaving us without a word had an impact on the kids. “She thinks you left because you don’t love her.”
“She knows that’s not—”
“She’s seventeen. You’re her mom, and you abandoned her. I got her an appointment Thursday with a counselor, but she needs more than that.” I hold her gaze, seeing the devastation in her eyes. “She needs her mom.”
“I know,” She agrees. “I know she does. I’m not leaving again, Nolan. I’m going to do whatever I have to do to make it up to you and everyone else.”
I don’t feel what I thought I would feel, hearing her promise. I believe her. She’s a good person, a loving mother. I know she was overwhelmed. I forgave her already, and I hope the kids will too. But looking at her, sitting in our house, it’s like looking at a stranger. My heart doesn’t know her anymore, and maybe it hasn’t for a long time.
“I know you will.” I take her hand, and she holds on tight. “It might be hard at first, but we’ll get through it.” The tears she’s been holding back fall from her eyes, the same color as Will’s, and I feel my heart clench tight at the reminder.
“Can I see her? And Ollie? I missed them so much, you have no idea.”
“When they get back,” I say with a squeeze to her hand. “They missed you too.”
By the time the front door opens, Jess and I have found some semblance of comfort with each other again. We’ve talked about Addie and her upcoming appointment. I tell her about the conversation with the pills and her fight with Emmett.
“She rejected him? Seriously?”
“Yeah, I don’t understand it either. I always figured—”
“So did I.”
We make a good team when it’s not about us, so we don’t let it be. There isn’t a single mention of wherewe stand, and that’s for the best. Those difficult conversations can be saved for later.
Ollie comes through the door first with a bounce in his step, stopping when he sees us, his eyes landing on his mother.
“Mommy!” he shouts, coming toward us at a run. She crouches down to catch him just in time, picking him up even though he’s getting too heavy for even me to hold comfortably.
“Hi, baby,” she says, into his hair. “I missed you so much.”
“You were gone so long,” he says, his little arms tight around her neck.
“I know.” Her voice cracks. “I won’t leave again, I promise.”
Addie, on the other hand, is watching her mother with wide eyes.
When Jess puts Ollie down and he comes to me for a hug next, I pick him up, and we watch as Addie crosses the room.
She hugs her mom, stiff at first, her arms reluctant. But as she holds her, her shoulders drop, relaxing into the hug. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been here, Addie,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”
Addie shakes her head, pulling back from the hug, her jaw clenched and her eyes shining. “That was really messed up, Mom.”
“I know it was.”
“You don’t just—You don’t just leave.” Her voice wavers. “You don’t know everything that’s happened and—I needed you, and you weren’t here.”
“I know.” Jess cups her face in both hands, wiping her tears away. “I know it wasn’t okay and I’m not going to pretend I have an excuse. I shouldn’t have left. And I never will again.”
Addie shakes her head as the dam breaks on whatever was holding her emotions back, falling into her mom, who holds her tight. “I hate you,” she cries, but she takes it all in stride, rubbing her back, whispering soothing words.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here now.”
