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She reaches for my hand. “I get it.”
“I’ve been alone for so long. And he’s so good with my kids. I guess I wanted to live a little.”
“As you should.” Meghan laughs. “God, I want to live a little.”
“I think I might need to consider going back to therapy. My mother says I should have someone objective to share my feelings with. Because she’s no help. She’s practically keeping her social calendar booked, hoping I’ll call him whenever I need a sitter.”
Meghan grins. “Do you mind if I ask Kat? About her therapist, I mean? She was very open about seeing one and raved about him.”
“Wow. Really? I saw two different ones after Dillon died. I figured I wasn’t in the right headspace to see anyone, because I couldn’t connect with either of them. I left feeling worse than when I got there.”
As if on cue, Kat walks into the nurses’ station, and Meghan pats my hand. “Kat, didn’t you have a therapist you saw for a while that you liked?”
Kat’s face literally lights up at the question. “Oh, yes! I love Dr. Miller. I still see him from time to time.” She bounces in her seat as if she’s about to share a portion of her lottery winnings with some lucky stranger. “Who needs one?” She claps.
Meghan turns to me, not wanting to throw me under the bus.
“I’d kind of like to see someone again. The first two sucked.” Kat has worked here long enough that she remembers when my husband died.
“Oh, Jillian. You couldn’t find anyone better. He’s so wonderful. But I have to warn you. He can be a bit…” She bites her lip as if trying to find the right words. “He can be a bit distracting.”
What does that mean?Does he have a speech impediment or something?I turn to look at Meghan, who lifts her water bottle to her lips.
“He could be Matthew McConaughey’s twin.”
Meghan nearly chokes. “And I’m just hearing about this?” She shakes her head. “Maybe this issue with my first love is a bigger problem than I thought.” She giggles. “Do you think they’ll work out a two for one discount?”
Whew. It’s been a long day.The kids were extra energetic today. It’s as if they know the school year is winding down and are itching to be free.
Since I was able to get home early enough, I gathered them up, and we went to the local Chick-Fil-A to get nuggets, fruit, and fries for dinner. The kids loved it, and I didn’t have to fret about heating up something on a Friday night.
It also kept them a little more preoccupied, so I didn’t have to hear any more questions about when we’d get to see Luca again. It’s been a week since we met him for dinner at Luigi’s, and I admit, they’re not the only ones missing him.
The whole night had gone well. While I don’t feel I know his brother any better, it was nice to be able to spend some time with him. Matteo is a bit more reserved and intimidating than his younger brother, yet he still went out of his way to tease the kids. He even had his own unique nicknames for them.
We were never the type to talk every day, but I admit it has seemed odd to go for so long without hearing from him. Heck, I’d go weeks without hearing from Dillon. But I’m probably feeling greedy for Luca’s attention after we had that hot nighttogether. It’s becoming clear, I’m not cut out for a friends-with-benefits type of relationship.
Removing my makeup and brushing my teeth, I head to my bed to get a good night’s rest. My kids will probably be totally amped and ready to go this weekend. I may have to take them somewhere to burn off all of this energy.
As I close my eyes, I try to force myself to think of anything but him. Just get to sleep, Jillian.
I spring up from the bed… what was that? Sliding my feet into my slippers, I make my way to the bedroom door. Cracking it open, I peek into the hallway. It’s dark. Quiet.
Walking past the children’s rooms, finding their doors closed, I continue down the steps to make sure the front door is locked. I rub my pregnant belly almost protectively.
Suddenly, it feels as if I’m surrounded by smoke. I push through the haze until I see it.
Blood. So much blood. It’s everywhere.
I turn to run for the phone when I catch something out of the corner of my eye.
“Dillon!”
I spring up from my bed, gulping in air as if I’ve emerged from the depths of the ocean. My heart is thundering in my chest. But I don’t panic. I’ve been here many times before. Reaching for my phone, I find the time.
1:10 a.m.
It’s always 1:10.
