Page 23 of The Way the Heart Breaks: Jade’s Story

“No, you don’t.”

Dad doesn’t answer right away, but when he finally does, his voice cracks. “I lost them, too.”

The silence after that fills the space entirely.

Then Mom says something so quietly I almost don’t hear it. “I feel it every second.”

Dad asks, “What do you want me to do?”

Another long silence, she asks, “Can I please just have some wine, just a glass so I can sleep?”

“Yeah.”

Song: I Don't Wanna Live Without Your Love- Chicago

Christmas Break

Christmas break starts, and for a second, things almost feel better. Not normal. Nothing will ever be that again, but… lighter.

Dad goes back to work during the day again, and he didn’t say it was because I was home, or that we’re broke, but I know both are true and am more than willing to do my part.

The first morning he leaves, coffee in one hand, keys in the other, I stand in the kitchen pretending not to stare.

“You sure?” I ask.

He gives me a tired smile. “Yeah, baby. I think it’s time.”

Mom starts coming downstairs more. Not every day at first, but within a couple of days, she sits with me on the couch and doesn’t look at me like I am hurting her just by being here.

Sometimes I catch her smiling at something stupid on Regis and Kathie Lee. We watch that every day. She and I knit together like we did when I was seven. She tells me her grandmother taught her, which I know, but I let her tell me the story every single day. It’s something.

By the week's end, we are both laughing at the TV. She covers her mouth afterward like she didn’t mean to let it happen.

I want to be happy about it. I really do. I want to believe we survived the worst part. But something feels… off. I can’t explain it. It’s like when the air changes before a storm. You can’t see it yet, but you just know.

Her eyes look different, too. Too bright sometimes. Too distant at other times.

One afternoon, I find her standing at the kitchen sink staring out the window for so long that the water overflows the glass in her hand.

“Mom?”

She blinks hard and smiles too quickly. “Sorry. Guess my brain stopped working.”

I laugh a little because I think I’m supposed to, but the feeling deepens.

And every once in a while, when she thinks nobody’s looking, I catch Mom staring at the boys’ school picture hanging in the hallway like she’s trying to remember how to survive seeing it.

Song: I Don't Wanna Live Without Your Love- Chicago

Three Nights Before Christmas

I hear Mom crying as I open my bedroom door. Not the quiet kind either. The bad kind. The kind that sounds like she’s breaking apart again.

Dad’s trying to calm her down downstairs, his voice low and steady, the way it always is now. Like he’s afraid if he speaks too loudly, everything will shatter.

I move quietly down the hallway and down the stairs until I can see the living room.

The lamp beside the couch is on; that’s it, everything else is dark.