How she cared in small, thoughtful ways, knowing my schedule better than I did, slipping an extra pen into my bag before work, and always placing my keys where I’d see them in the morning.
The way she held on to me in sleep, even on the nights I didn’t deserve it.
How she knew what I needed before I even spoke it aloud.
And so many more I had forgotten.
Maybe she was just as desperate for me to understand her language, to tell her,Yes, I see you. I know what you’re saying. I see it in your touch, your gestures, your actions.
I overlooked all of that, and I overlooked it deeply.
And now, there was no way to undo it.
I didn’t understand why so much had slipped from my mind. Why the anger, the shouting, and the fights had drowned out memories of how it used to be. The things I once understood, things I had cherished, were gone—lost beneath my insecurities. My selfishness. I was desperate for my love to be returned equally, for her love for me to be proclaimed loudly.
I thought I was all alone in this. That I had been patient enough, that twelve years were long enough to keep trying.
I took a long sip of whiskey, letting it burn slowly.
Today was good. Really good. I spent it with Harper and Sloane, and for a little while, we let ourselves forget about the divorce, the mess I made, everything in between. It was stillthere, of course, tucked in the back of my mind. But for once, the weight of it didn’t win. Happiness did.
At least for me.
And I wondered if I’d ever feel that happy again.
I knew losing that happiness forever was the cost of decisions made when control and reason slipped away.
And so, I would have to learn to live with it.
To survive it.
I stayed still. The night crawled by, too slow.
The whiskey glass sat empty on the table, the bottle still in my grip.
It remained there as the sun rose on the horizon, then climbed higher and higher until it shone above us.
Finally, I set the bottle down.
I stood up, took a shower, and changed my clothes.
There was somewhere I needed to be.
A decision I had made.
Irang the bell. She opened the door almost immediately, like she’d been waiting, even though I hadn’t called.
Evie breathed out my name. “Cameron.”
She stepped aside, and I walked in. I closed the door behind me and made my way to the living room, dropping onto the sofa. She followed, sitting beside me, her hands fidgeting in her lap.
“I’m sorry,” she began. “I know I pushed too hard. I made you uncomfortable. Of course, you want to be with your child. I should have been more understanding.”
I listened but said nothing.
“I thought you wouldn’t come back,” she continued, her voice trembling. I looked over and saw the tears in her eyes. She took my hand and gripped it tight. “I couldn’t sleep. I kept calling, texting... You didn’t answer. Cam, you know I love you. I’ve always worried because you never said it back. And I—”
“Evie.”
