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“Kind of,” I said. “Emily’s a great teacher.”
Just then Emily appeared at my side. She’d come downstairs while I was busy convincing the kids to eat my cooking. When I turned to see her face, she was smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes. The blue-green of them was staine
d with red lines. I could tell she’d been crying, and the thought made my stomach tighten painfully. I never wanted to cause her pain, but somehow, I kept fucking up and hurting her.
“I made breakfast,” I said proudly. “Emily’s famous french toast.”
Emily nodded and smiled weakly. When our eyes met, she looked away quickly, and I knew she was still upset. I gestured for her to sit down, and I placed a plate in front of her, hurrying over to get her some coffee.
“Thank you,” she said.
Her voice was tight, but she took a sip of the coffee all the same. When she tried to french toast, I held my breath and waited. She chewed slowly, swallowing hard.
“So?” I asked. “I know they aren’t as good as yours but…”
“They’re great,” she said with a nod.
“Dad’s getting better!” Sarah said.
Emily smiled at her kindly but didn’t meet my gaze. I sat down at the table, disappointed but still determined to fix things. As we ate our breakfast, I made conversation about their plans for the day. Emily barely spoke, but Tommy and Sarah told me all about their day.
They were going to the bookstore this morning, and then they were getting pizza for lunch. Tommy was thrilled, but Sarah still insisted she wanted to go to the mall.
“We already had this discussion,” I reminded her firmly.
“Yeah, but it’s stupid,” Sarah said.
“That’s enough.” My eyes narrowed as she stared at me in that challenging way of hers. I glanced at Emily to see if she wanted to say something, but she wasn’t even looking at us. Her eyes were focused on the table.
“Well, have fun today,” I said after breakfast was over.
The kids gave me a hug and hurried upstairs to get dressed. I carried the plates to the kitchen and watched while Emily slowly lifted herself out of her chair. When I turned to face her, she was staring at the stairs, waiting for the kids to reappear. I could tell she was eager to be out of the house, and I knew that was my fault.
“Emily,” I said softly. “About last night.”
“I should get my shoes,” she said quickly.
Without looking at me, she hurried upstairs. When she came back down, Tommy and Sarah were right behind her. They both waved goodbye as Emily led the way toward the front door. I called out my goodbye, hoping Emily might turn around, but she didn’t. She just disappeared outside without so much as a glance in my direction.
I sighed and headed toward my study. The whole reason Emily was taking the kids out today was so I could write. That was why she did everything, to help me. I’d taken her for granted, and I hadn’t appreciated everything she’d done for us.
It wasn’t right or fair. Emily, more than anyone, deserved my gratitude. She always went above and beyond what her actual job required, and for me to throw it back in her face last night was incredibly shitty. I didn’t deserve her.
As I sat behind my desk and pulled my computer to me, I sighed again and tried to concentrate. The best thing I could do for Emily now was finish my book. If I finished it, then I would finally have more time to devote to her, and maybe I could stop being such a moody asshole.
That morning flew by fast. My fingers moved across the keyboard without pause. I felt amazing as I pounded out the story I’d held inside me for so long. My fingers could barely keep up with my brain, and by the time lunchtime rolled around, my knuckles were sore and the story was almost finished.
I took a break, leaning back and stretching my arms over my head. After I grabbed a bite to eat from the kitchen, I sat back down and resumed my work. Even while I ate, my mind still spun with ideas. For the first time, I didn’t have trouble coming up with things to say. The words found me without any effort on my part. I kept writing into the afternoon. My entire body was involved as I rocked back and forth, typing faster than ever. When I reached the last sentence, I finally slowed. I typed each word carefully, making sure every single letter was perfect.
With a sigh, I typed the final period and then sat back. My mind was finally clear, and my heart was no longer racing. I felt like myself again, free from the stress and pressure I’d inflicted upon myself and everyone else around me. As I sat there, staring at the completed document on my screen, a smile spread slowly across my face.
“I did it,” I said quietly to myself, laughing and throwing my head back.
In that moment, there was only one person I wanted to tell. I grabbed my phone off the desk and dialed Emily’s number. She answered on the second ring.
“I did it!” I said before she could get a word out. “I finished it! The entire book. It’s done. I fucking did it!”
“Wow,” Emily said. “That’s amazing.” Her voice sounded like she felt anything but amazing.
