While driving home,I glanced at Lucas through the rear-view mirror.
He sat quietly in the back seat, watching the rain trace crooked paths down the window.
Guilt lodged deep beneath my sternum. It had been quietly following me ever since our lives had changed.
“I’m so sorry for everything, Lucas,” I said softly.
The consequences of my actions were now part of his life, even though none of it was his fault. He was still so young and could not fully understand what had happened or why we had left everything behind. The realization pressed painfully against my heart.
“I hope you are happy here.”
For a brief moment, Caleb’s face flashed in my mind, and I pushed the thought away almost immediately. Some memories were too miserable to linger on… especially the ones that still had the power to make my heart hurt.
Lucas looked at me through the mirror and smiled. “I am, Mama. I promise you, I am.”
Seven years old, and already so mature for his age.A rush of love filled my chest as I looked at him.
Children had a remarkable ability to adapt. Lucas’s resilience gave me hope that perhaps this new life might eventually feel normal for both of us.
I pulled into the driveway, and we hopped out of the car.
From inside the house, Oreo’s excited barking echoed loudly as soon as he realized we had arrived home.
The weekend passed quicklyas I focused on household chores, attending church, and participating in some of the village’s activities.
Each weekend seemed to bring something new.
That weekend, there was a small fair in the village square.
Lucas went on ride after ride, laughing so loudly that people nearby turned to smile at him. He even won a stuffed toy after successfully tossing rings over a row of bottles.
When we returned home, he carefully placed Winnie the Pooh beside his collection of stuffed animals in his room. His face glowed with pride as he admired the growing lineup.
On Sunday evening, Lucas and I curled up on the couch to watch a movie together.
At one point, he rested his head against my belly. Suddenly, he jerked upright with a startled shriek. “Whoa, Mama! Did you feel that?” he asked, his eyes wide with amazement.
“Yes, I did,” I said gently. “That’s your baby sister, Emma. She’s strong, isn’t she?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Is she hurting you, Mama?” he asked innocently.
My heart softened at his concern. “No, sweetheart,” I reassured him. “She’s not hurting me. She’s just letting us know she’s here too… and she can’t wait to see us.”
“I can’t wait to meet her, too, Mama,” he said, squealing.
I smiled at his excitement, but as my hand rested over my belly, a thought slipped through my mind before I could stop it.
He should have been here for this.
Caleb would have loved this moment. He would have laughed with Lucas and probably insisted that the baby was already strong enough to play soccer.
The thought lingered for only a second before I gently pushed it aside.
That life belonged to another version of me.
Another time.
We watched the rest of the movie until Lucas slowly drifted off to sleep beside me.
