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“It’s only a plane ride away. And you yourself said you visit L.A. often,” I remind her softy.
“I know . . . just gotta get used to not seeing this little chubber every day.”
Smiling back at Kate, I watch as she gently sways Masen. It’s sad to go, but it’s all in Masen’s best interest. I constantly have to drum that into my stubborn head. It doesn’t matter what I want.
But that all soon falls apart.
The next night, I wake up sweating profusely, my lungs feeling like they have been punctured, not allowing me to breathe. Panicky and dripping in cold sweat, I clutch my chest, certain I’m having a heart attack.
I’m thirty-two. The likelihood of that happening is slim. The panic subsides and the reality of being alone in this big bed hits me like a ton of bricks.
I’m suffering from what they call a broken heart.
I have all the symptoms. The aching heart, the lack of appetite. No song can play in the background without causing me a complete meltdown.
On day four, it officially hits. Physically my heart is aching, and the stream of tears flows evenly, escalating in loud sobs. Not wanting to wake up Masen or Kate, I grab the pillow and shove it onto my face. The pain is unbearable. Several times I have contemplated calling and telling him to come over. I miss him so much, and the thought of being on the other side of the country has left me torn in my decision.
I miss his smell. That masculine scent that drives my senses wild. I miss the way his eyebrows do that thing every time his face breaks into a smile. But most of all, I miss the way he watches over Masen with unconditional love. The adoration in that one stare made me realize that no other man could love Masen as much as he does.
I am out of my mind, clearly not thinking straight.
Then I do that awful stalker thing. I check his Facebook and Twitter, but he hasn’t a posted a thing. Immediately afterward, I regret looking at pictures of him. How can one human being be so beautiful, yet tear every inch of your soul to pieces at the same time?
In the light of day, with the sun peering through my curtains, the world seems entirely different. My eyes were puffy and sore from my cry-fest. Last night feels like a big blur now, yet the pain still lingers. It only reminds me that there are many sleepless nights to come.
After all, this is only the beginning.
Liz is coming over later to take Masen out for a couple of hours so I can run some last minute errands. Since Masen is still fast asleep, I shower quickly and dress in my jeans with a grey knitted jumper. Makeup is mandatory; I have to cover up the bags under my eyes. My hair never cooperates, so I settle for running some product through it and leaving it down. All dressed and ready for the day, I change Masen and feed him, then finish packing his bag.
On cue, the doorbell rings and a happy Liz is waiting impatiently for her grandson.
“There he is!” She pulls him from my arms as I motion for her to come inside.
Liz is a very attractive woman. I’d peg her for being in her early fifties with her youthful skin yet classic style. She is wearing a long, natural-colored overcoat and black leather gloves. Pulling the gloves off, she rubs her hands, then picks up Masen from his rocker.
“Okay, so the stroller’s over there and his bag has enough milk for the day, spare clothes, and a ton of diapers.”
“Thanks honey.” She smiles. “We are going to have fun today. Daddy is going to take you to the zoo.”
“Daddy?” I almost choke at her words.
She stops smiling and moves her attention back to me, looking slightly nervous. “Yes. Haden took the week off work because of the hectic wedding schedule.”
I have two options; I can be the devil and take Masen away from him, or I can ignore the way my heart just fell to the ground when Liz mentioned the wedding and act okay with it.
“I better get going,” I mumble, kissing Masen on the top of his head.
“Presley.” She stops me, clutching my arm.
I reluctantly turn to face her, struggling to keep my emotions steady.
“Let fate run its course. In the end, it will all work out.”
Fate? Fate hasn’t stopped screwing with me since the moment I told Jason we needed to end things. I can’t rely on fate. I can’t
rely on anything. Call me a pessimist, a cynic, whatever the hell you want. If I wanted something to happen, I needed to do something about it. Right now, I just want to get out of here. I don’t want to think about the Jerk and his stupid wedding.
As soon as Liz is gone, I muster up every part of me to not shed one more tear. He has made his decision; I have made mine. Grabbing my purse, I head out, forcing myself to enjoy my child-free today.
