Page 36 of From This Moment (After We Fall 4)
I had trouble sleeping that night, dreading the sunrise that would officially make it the day before Abby started kindergarten. All I could think of was how Drew would miss it. Just like he’d missed her first day of preschool. Just like he’d missed her first wiggly tooth. Just like he’d miss every conference and concert and school play. Her Prom. Her graduation. Her wedding. It would be me alone through it all, watching her grow up until finally she left me, too. What would I do then? Who would I be? How would I survive when she no longer needed me?
I was bleary-eyed and silent the next morning at work. Georgia would have forced me to talk about it, which probably would have resulted in a meltdown right there in the kitchen, but thankfully, it was Pete working the Labor Day breakfast shift. If he noticed something was off with me, he didn’t mention it.
After work, I tried to combat the feeling of impending doom by taking Abby to the park, helping her pack up all her new school supplies in the pink and purple backpack she’d picked out, and letting her help me make Italian meatloaf for dinner. It was my mother’s recipe, and made me a little lonesome for her. I thought of calling her, but she’d ask me how I was doing, and I didn’t feel like I could answer that question without breaking down.
After dinner, Abby asked if we could walk into town for ice cream.
“Sure,” I said, not particularly eager to start the bedtime routine.
“Let’s call Uncle Wes.”
An alarm bell pinged in my head. I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing Wes tonight. “Oh, honey, let’s not bother him.”
“But I told him we’d call him next time we got ice cream,” she wailed. “We have to.”
I thought about pretending to call him and saying he didn’t answer, but felt too guilty. This is not just about you.
He picked up quickly. “Hello?”
Maybe there would be a day when the familiar sound of his voice—so like Drew’s—didn’t throw me, but that day wasn’t today. “Hey, Wes. Abby and I are about to walk into town for some ice cream and wondered if you’d like to come along.” Say no. Say no. Say no.
“I’d love to. Give me ten minutes?”
“Of course.”
We hung up, and I told Abby to use the bathroom. While she did, I went upstairs into my bathroom and dug around in my makeup bag. Dabbed some concealer on the circles under my eyes. But it didn’t do enough to erase the anxiety or exhaustion from my face, so I added a little blush and mascara. Ran a brush through my hair. When I was putting my makeup bag back in the drawer, I noticed a bottle of perfume in there. I took it out and sprayed my throat.
But the scent, Drew’s favorite, was both a painful reminder of happier days and an accusation—why are you putting on perfume for another man?—and a few choked sobs wrenched free from my chest.
Stop it. Get yourself together. You have Abby to think about. And Wes is on his way over. Do you want either one of them to see you like this?
A few deep breaths later, I’d wrested control of myself back from my feelings. The damage to my face wasn’t too terrible, and I repaired the eye makeup best I could, figuring a pair of sunglasses would hide the worst of it.
Abby and I waited for Wes outside, and my heart beat erratically when he pulled up and got out of the car. It kept up its uneven rhythm as we walked into town, and I tried to tame it by keeping my eyes on the sidewalk.
“Everything okay, Hannah?” Wes asked when we were halfway there.
I nodded. If I opened my mouth to speak, I knew I’d cry.
It didn’t help that Abby insisted o
n being carried on his shoulders again, and he was all too happy to do it. I envied both of them their carefree smiles, the brightness of their faces, the excitement in their voices as they talked about what flavors they’d get. I wanted to feel that way, too. As we walked, I spun my ring around my finger.
When we got to the shop, I said I didn’t want anything, but Wes bought me a cup of pistachio anyway. “You need this,” he said as he handed it to me. “Ice cream makes everything better. It’s a medical fact.”
I managed a smile. “Thanks.”
I ate a few bites on the walk home, but couldn’t taste it.
“Mommy, can I play on the swings for a little bit?” Abby asked as we walked up the driveway. “Uncle Wes said he’d give me an underdog.”
“Five minutes, okay? We have to get you in the tub soon.”
“Okay.” She grabbed his hand and led him around the house into the yard.
I went inside, tossed my ice cream in the sink, and threw away the cup. Through the window, I watched as Wes pushed Abby on the swing, ducking beneath it as he ran forward and she squealed with delight.
My legs wobbled. It was all so perfect—the sunset and the ice cream and the swing and the first school night of the year and my daughter and this man, this beautiful, kind, smart, sweet, sexy, adoring man here making her laugh. Why couldn’t I feel it? Why wasn’t I a part of it?
