Page 61 of Open Net

I instantly felt more comfortable. There was something about her that made me feel like I wasn’t alone. Like she understood everything I was going through.

“I promise you it’s worth it.”

I glanced back at the room and sighed. “Are they going to make me talk about my feelings?”

She laughed. “Only if you want to. If you just want to listen that’s okay too.”

I hesitated as she took a step forward. She turned to me with an amused expression. “You can sit with me. I promise it’s not as bad as whatever you’re thinking.”

She was probably right. The only support groups I’d seen were on TV. The groups either cried with each other or they were rude and disregarded people’s feelings. It had to be better than that.

“Okay.”

She beamed. “Okay. I’m Addison by the way.”

“Emma.”

“Nice to meet you, Emma. Now let’s go grab a donut before all we’re left with is glazed.”

No one had mentioned donuts. They should have had that on their flyers. What hormonal, depressed woman wouldn’t be sucked in by the promise of sweets?

16

Olli

“I’m leaving in five, with or without you.” Grant’s voice called out.

I pulled on a shirt and ran my hands over it a few times trying to get rid of the wrinkles. Living without Emma meant being responsible for folding and hanging my clothes. Not my strongest talent. We found a great balance after being married for a few months. Emma hated doing dishes and I hated laundry, so we split those responsibilities.

Now, I had to do both and not doing laundry for several years had me out of practice. So far, I hadn’t completely ruined any clothes, but it was only a matter of time.

“I’m coming.” I threw my phone and wallet into my pockets and met Grant at the front door. It was hospital day for the Fury. We were going to the children’s center to visit our littlest and strongest fans.

I looked forward to this day every year. I loved spending time with the kids, but it was hard when you saw the same kids there year after year. It wasn’t that I didn’t like building those relationships, I hated that they were there. I’d met three and four-year-olds that had spent most, if not all, of their lives in the hospital. It broke my heart, and if spending the day with them brought them any amount of joy I would do it. I’d be strong like them.

“Do you think Emma’s going to be there?” Grant asked.

My chest tightened at her name. “I’m not sure.”

“You still haven’t talked to her?”

I rubbed my face. I hated talking about it. “I called yesterday.”

He seemed surprised. “And? How’d it go?”

“I asked to see Jackson and she said her mom would bring him over later.”

He nodded while staring out at the road. “That’s something.”

“She’d been crying.”

He glanced at me for a second. “How could you tell?”

“I could hear it in her voice. I could tell she was trying to hold it together, but I know her well enough to know when she’s faking.”

He didn’t have a reply. What could he say? Well it’s your fault she’s crying? You’re a terrible husband who left her to take care of a newborn alone?

Yeah, nothing he said could be as cruel as what I’d already told myself.