In the background, I heard the clicking of a keyboard, like she was already looking up airfares on her laptop.
“You don’t need to come,” I said, shaking my head. “You don’t need to do anything. I’m…okay, all things considered. Surviving.”
Okayfelt like a stretch, but I didn’t want her to worry. Iwouldbe okay; I just needed some time to sort through my feelings and figure out what my new direction was. I needed a chance to grapple with this grief, the complexity of it. I needed to give my body a break because it didn’t feel normal, that a person should bleed quite so much while also being expected to continue life as normal, to answer emails and respond to meeting notices.
“You said Sully is with you?”
“Yeah, we’re staying at Maple Street.”
“Okay.” I could picture her: hands on her hips, brows tugged together over striking green eyes, ready to solve the world’s problems. She was in her big sister mode. “Okay, that’s good. And you told him? He knows?”
She would ask that, like she knew that I’d be the kind of person to try to do this on my own.
“He knows.”
“Good.” She breathed out again and then asked more tentatively, “How is he?”
“He’s…sad, I think.” An oversimplification. “But he’s trying not to let me see.”
“Sounds like my brother.”
“Yeah, I—I’m glad I’m here, though. And, well…I’m glad he’s here, too.”
Selfishly, I was grateful to be here. And for him to be here with me.
Sometimes, though, I imagined what might have happened if I’d stayed in California. If I’d never come home, never burdened Sully with this. I wondered if it would have been better for him—to be blissfully unaware. To be spared the roller coaster of emotions. He could have maintained his status quo instead of riding these highs and lows. He could have continued his life without me, without the complication of this.
Logically, I understood it had been his child, too, and he’d had a right to all of it, even the pain, but whenever I caught a sight of the anguish in his eyes or the furrow of his brow that seemed so much more intense than it ever had before…I couldn’t help but wish it away.
Had he been happy before?
He said once that nothing about this summer had been easy, but what aboutbeforethat? Before I’d reentered his life in Boston?
“You know,” Natalie said softly, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I had a miscarriage, a few years after Chloe was born.”
My breath caught in my throat. I sat up straighter, frowning. “You did?”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “I never told anyone but Korey, of course. He…didn’t think I should share about it. He said it wasn’t something people talk about, that it was private, something we could handle together. And if Korey were someone like Cameron, maybe that would have been true. But then again, Cameron would never say anything like that.”
My whole body ached thinking about it—that there had been yetanotherway Korey isolated her during their marriage.
“Nat—”
“No, hang on,” she cut in. “Sorry, that wasn’t my point. We both know that Korey sucks. My point was that I wish I hadn’t listened to him. My experience in healthcare should have made me realize that it was something so many women go through, something thatshouldbe talked about. And I wish I’d had the courage to ignore Korey and open up more because I think I could have used that support from others.” A breathless, dry laugh echoed through the phone speaker. “No, IknowI could have. Because I got very little from him.” She sighed. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, if you need anything, please let me know. Let Sully know. Let my mom know or my other brothers. We’re here for you, okay?”
Aside from the emotions Chloe had forced on me a minute ago, I hadn’t cried yet today.
But it looked like my dry streak just might be ending.
“Okay,” I choked out as tears welled in my lash line. “I know you are. And I’m here for you, too, Nat.”
The front door opened then, and Sully appeared in the doorway, his broad shoulders taking up most of it. Broad,bareshoulders, considering he was shirtless.Oh my God, he was shirtless.His skin was bronzed from the sun and slick with moisture, sweat dotting his muscles while also beading his hairline, making his blond hair stick to his forehead. And I was so caught off guard by the godlike nature of his appearance that I didn’t even notice at first that he was tracking freshly cut grass over the floors, trailing from his stained shoes.
“Sullivan,” I tsked, and his attention whipped to me, like he hadn’t noticed me sitting there. He frowned when his gaze landed on my face, but as I felt a tear trickle down my cheek, I realized it wasn’t because of my admonishment.
“El,” he huffed, still breathing hard from the yardwork. Iwatched him rake a hand through his damp hair, his biceps bulging and making my mouth run dry. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, but you’re making a mess,” I said, flashing a wobbly smile and pointing at his feet.
