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“Daddy!” She runs over to hug him.
“Hey, little Miss. I brought breakfast. Want me to take you to daycare today? I have to leave for a trip, so I won’t be home tonight.”
“Yes!”
He comes into the kitchen and dumps the bag of biscuits onto the table. After checking them, he hands one to Savannah, sits, and takes his. There’s one left, but he hasn’t acknowledged me at all. Savannah glances over at me, so I fix us all something to drink and take my place at the table. If it wasn’t for Savannah, there would be an awkward silence between us. He’s still pissed and I’m upset and confused.
Breakfast takes forever to end. I hate when it does, though. Ian asks Savannah if she’s ready to go, which she is, so she tells me bye and then they’re gone. He never says a word to me. God, why is it so easy to be pissed at him, but I can never handle it when he’s mad at me? Even if I deserve it, it nearly breaks me to have him angry with me.
By us not talking today, we’re not going to have this resolved before he leaves for his trip either. That doesn’t sound like a good idea, but there’s not much I can do about it. I have things to do today for school. He has practice and then they are flying out soon after that.
During the day, when I get a break, I call my mom and explain everything that happened. That turns out to be a mistake because of the first thing she says to me.
“He said that to you? He said, ‘Fuck you, Sydney’?”
“Mom, that is so not the point.”
“You don’t think it’s important that he talks so harshly to you?”
“No. He was angry, and that’s just how it goes sometimes. I’ve called him an asshole and a bastard before. He can tell me to fuck off when he’s pissed. It doesn’t bother me.”
Mom is quiet for a second. “That is a huge problem.”
I sigh. “Mom, can we try to focus here? Did I overreact? Does he have a reason to be pissed? Do I not have a reason to be pissed?” I swear, if she goes back to his fuck you comment, I’m hanging up on her.
“I think you’re both right and wrong. He should’ve had his phone, but he has a point that he hasn’t been doing this long enough where it’s second nature for him to keep it close in the c
ase of an emergency. He should get recognition for coming as soon as he found out and helping calm her down.”
“So, you’re saying this is all my fault?” I interrupt.
“I’m saying you could’ve been upset, but you didn’t have to blow up at him. To me, it sounded like you were ready to break up with him over it.”
“That’s not true.”
“I’m just telling you what it sounded like, Sydney.”
Well, that’s just great. “Thanks for talking to me. I have to go now.”
“Okay. Keep me posted.”
“I will.” Next time, I won’t be so detailed either.
The rest of the day passes like any other. It’s just Savannah and me tonight and the next day. Ian doesn’t call at all, which I don’t call him either. Well, Savannah calls him, and he answers, but he doesn’t talk to me. We have dinner, play, color, watch TV, and then she’s going to bed. It’s been torture. I don’t care about what happened anymore. I just want to fix things between us.
If I didn’t already know it, this latest argument between us has sealed the fact that we cannot ever end. I’m too invested in Ian. I miss him too much when he’s not here, even more when he’s mad and we’re not talking. He’s the only person I’ve ever truly wanted to be with. We can’t end. We can have all the arguments we want, but we have to resolve them and move on. It’s really bothering me that we’ve gone this long without talking and fixing things. I’m also bothered that he didn’t stay the night here the night everything blew up. He should’ve come home.
Tossing and turning in bed, I sigh loudly. I’ve been having trouble sleeping and tonight is no different. I grab my e-reader and pick a book to read. It’s been forever since I’ve made time to read. This seems like the perfect distraction.
Only I can’t get comfortable. Not in bed, in the recliner, on the couch, on the floor, at the table. I spend at least an hour in each spot with no true success. Eventually, I make my way to sit on the kitchen counter, leaning against the fridge. This is where I am when I hear the lock turning in the door. I tense, click off the e-reader, and sit up straight, quietly reaching into the drawer below me for a knife.
The person is making sure to be quiet and is carrying a bag. Why did I turn off all the lights? I’m such an idiot! Now, I can’t see whoever it is!
A light flicks on.
I drop the knife in surprise, causing who I can now tell is Ian to turn around.
“Shit, babe, you scared the hell out of me.” He comes around to pick up the knife with a raised eyebrow. “What were you planning to do with this?” He drops it in the sink.
