Page 50 of If I Didn’t Have You

I’d thrown my husband out of the house, and now I had no idea what to do. Who was I without him in my life? Did I really want him gone?

I needed space; I knew that much. But with him gone, a piece of me was missing, something I had known deep inside me for the majority of my life. Nothing felt right without him, and yet, I knew we both needed to figure some things out apart.

“Morning!” Lizzy called out as she walked through the door. “Ooh, breakfast. Did someone call dibs already?”

Tears pricked my eyes as I tried my damndest not to cry. I didn’t dare turn around. She would see the tears and immediately know something was wrong. But Willa’s cry set me off. As soon as I heard her sniffled sobs, I lost it, dropping the pot into the soapy water as I hunched over and let the tears fall.

“Mamma?” Lizzy asked, rushing over to me. “What’s wrong?”

But I couldn’t speak, couldn’t let the words slip from my lips. I was too heartbroken, shattered inside and feeling completely lost.

This wasn’t fair. None of this was right. My husband should be in here, grumbling about the weather or the cattle.

But he wasn’t. The cattle were long gone, along with my husband.

Lizzy spun me and cradled me in her arms as her daughter stood at our feet, tugging at my skirt.

“Hey,” she whispered, stroking my hair like I had done so many times for her. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

Without realizing it, I clasped my hands around her neck and pulled her tighter, needing comfort and someone to tell me everything was going to be okay.

And that’s the way we stood for the better part of a half hour, until Willa’s cries turned into sobs. Some part of me felt like she was commiserating with me, able to understand that sometimes you just needed a good cry.

“Momma, what happened? Where’s Daddy?”

Swiping the tears from my cheeks, I ducked my head, terrified to tell my daughter that I kicked her father out. Would she hate me? Would she think I was evil?

“I asked him to leave,” I whispered.

“Well, after what happened last night, I’m not surprised,” she sighed, tugging me over to the kitchen table.

Willa climbed up into her lap, snuggling against her Momma. Lizzy, like the amazing mother she was, snuggled her daughter, pressing kisses to her temple to calm her, all the while focusing on me.

I might not have understood why she kept Willa’s father a secret, but none of that really mattered when I saw how much she loved her daughter.

“Momma, how bad is it?”

I bit my lip, terrified to tell her just what I was feeling inside. This was between her father and me. She shouldn’t be dragged into this.

“It’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure about that? It’s not like you to go to bed angry.”

“Well, since I didn’t get any sleep, I guess I didn’t really go to bed,” I admitted.

Squeezing my hand, she gave me a tight smile. “It’ll be okay. You’ll work this out. I know you will.”

“Are you really so sure? I wish I could have your confidence.”

She laughed at that. “I don’t have confidence. I plow through life one day at a time, hoping I don’t screw up my baby.”

“Not possible. She’s too sweet.”

“Yeah, tell me that after she throws her third temper tantrum of the day.”

“Well, kids have a way of keeping you young and making you want to scream in a dark room, all at the same time.”

“Seriously, Momma, whatever it is, you and Daddy will work it out. You always do.”