Page 117 of Before We Break

I lean in to kiss her, then force myself to stand and walk out the door. Each step that brings me farther away from Clio feels like fucking torture. Will it always be like this? Will I always have this intense longing to be near her at all times?

When I get to my apartment, it looks like a tornado ran through it. There’s a pile of blankets in the living room that once belonged to a fort, a bunch of unfinished coloring sheets scattered across my coffee table beside an empty pizza box, and Auggie and Emma are nowhere to be found. It seems my sister and my nephew are determined to test my patience, but I don’t have time to waste on a game of hide and seek—I need to get back to my girls as soon as possible.

“Oh no. Where could Auggie be?” I holler into the silent apartment.

As I take another step into the living room, something crunches under my boot.

I squat and pick up the remnants of something made out of Legos. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the curtains shift, following them down to a set of socked feet sticking out the bottom. As if this day couldn’t be complicated enough, I have a mischievous preschooler to contend with.

Normally, I’d draw out the game and pretend to search high and low, but not this time.

I make as much noise as possible searching the bedrooms, then I pull back the curtain for the grand reveal. Auggie squeals and darts past me. I catch him around the waist and toss him over my shoulder. “Where’s Aunt Emma, you little stinker?”

He doesn’t respond, and only then do I realize he doesn’t have his ears on. I set him back on his feet and lower myself to his level.

“Where are your ears?” I sign.

He shrugs, then signs, “Gone.”

Great.

“Emma,” I shout. “You can come out now.”

The pantry door opens, and my sister appears, sliding it shut behind her. “What’s up?”

“Seriously? Look around.”

She holds up her hands. “My bad. We were having fun.”

“I can see that. Do you know where Auggie’s ears went?”

“They’re around here somewhere. He said he needed a break and took them off.”

“You didn’t think to keep track of them? They’re worth thousands of dollars, Em.”

She rolls her eyes and starts picking up blankets and throw pillows off the floor. Auggie’s processors come tumbling out of the pile. He picks them up and puts them back on like nothing happened, while here I was doing mental calculations on how I was going to afford to replace them.

I lift Auggie into my arms and grab his tablet off the couch. “I have to go. I expect my apartment to be clean when I get back.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” She folds one of the blankets in half and drapes it over the back of the couch. “Is Clio ok?”

“She’s fine. I should get back, though. Not my story to tell.”

“You’re a good man, Noah Weston.” She leans in, simultaneously hugging Auggie and me. “See you later, alligator.”

“After a while, crocodile,” Auggie replies automatically.

I stop in the hallway between our apartments and set Auggie on his feet. I know I need to say something to warn him about what’s waiting on the other side of that door, but I can’t exactly explain to a four-year-old that his favorite person in the whole world is making a life-changing decision right now—a choice that will alter the trajectory of her life forever, whether she decides to keep the baby or not.

She’ll always have a voice in the back of her head asking what if. I know because I ask myself that same question every goddamn day. What if our parents never died? What if Andrea hadn’t overdosed? What if—two small words with the power to heal or haunt.

“I need you to be on your best behavior when we get in there, ok? Lexi and Cici need gentle hands.”

He stares at me curiously, then nods. I’m still not used to this whole parenting thing. I’ve learned a lot from Clio over the last six months, but every day feels like a new challenge.

When we step inside Clio’s apartment, they’re right where I left them. Fresh tears glisten on Lexi’s cheeks. It takes Auggie all of two seconds to assess the situation and rush over to Lexi, wrapping his arms around her. She returns the hug like it’s the greatest gift she’s received.

He pulls back, palming her cheeks. “Don’t cry, Lexi. It’s ok.”