Page 75 of Open Net

She frowned. “See me, Olli.”

I had no idea what she meant. I thought I did. I thought we were partners. What had I missed?

“I can’t do this. I’ll make a few rounds, but then I’m going home. I’ll get a ride so don’t worry about it.”

She turned to leave but I caught her. “Emma, please help me understand.”

She sighed like the weight of the world was on her shoulders, like the effort was draining. “I’m broken, Olli. I’ve been barely holding on. My mom and the girls have been amazing, but what I really needed was you. I needed to be able to lean on my husband, but you weren’t there for me. I’ve had to go through this darkness alone. I can’t keep up the act tonight. I thought I could, but I was wrong.”

“Emma, what can I do to fix this? What can I do to help?”

She shrugged. “I need my husband back.”

I shook my head. “I’ll move back in.”

She held up her hand. “No, you won’t. I said I want my husband. He hasn’t been here since the accident. When that man is healed and ready to be a father, and my partner, you can come back.”

Her words cut deep, but I didn't totally understand. “Emma…”

“Finish your treatment, Olli. Heal physically and mentally and then we’ll talk.”

I hated what she was saying, but I had to honor her wishes. “Okay.”

This time when she walked away, I let her. Watching her merge with the crowd.

“You okay, man?” Grant asked.

I turned to see Grant and Addison watching me with concerned expressions.

I shrugged. “I don’t really know. I don’t understand.” I turned to Addison hoping she could give me a clue.

She seemed to be sizing me up.

“I’ll do what she asked,” I said. “I’ll keep working with Madi and Dr. Elliot, but she said I don’t see her. How is that possible?”

Addison pursed her lips. I knew she had the answer.

“Addison, please?”

She sighed and glanced around. “Fine. Emma and I didn’t meet the way I said we did.”

I gazed at her intently. “How did you meet?”

“It was at the hospital. She was going for the first time and I could tell she was nervous, so I talked to her and told her how helpful it was. After that we kept in touch and met up before-”

“Before what?”

She glanced at Grant before meeting my eyes. “A support group.”

I narrowed my eyes. “A support group for what?”

“Women that are experiencing postpartum depression and anxiety.”

“Postpartum depression.” I’d read about that in Emma’s pregnancy books. I said the words aloud as things in my head fell into place. Her sadness, low energy. She told me she didn’t feel like Jackson was hers. I thought she just meant it didn’t feel real yet. She was trying to tell me. She didn’t feel the connection other mothers talked about. She said she felt like she was in a fog, and I thought she was just tired.”

I hadn’t seen her. I hadn’t seen her suffering.

It felt like someone had sucker punched me in the gut. My breath was gone, and I sank against the wall. I’d failed her. She was asking for help. Telling me what was wrong, but I didn’t pay attention. I didn't see how much she had changed.