AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It wasmeconsolingBryant.Comforting Bryant.TellingBryantthat everything would be okay, when I should have been focused solely on my son.
The divorce might have been Bryant’s idea because he said he needed to be relieved of some of the unexpected demands of being a father to Nicholas.
ButIwas the one who really got relief.
Living with my ex-husband… it was like having two children.I was tired of sparing the energy to coddle Bryant and make him feel better or stronger when he never offered me the same support.
I needed to reserve energy formy son.
Over the two-hour drive to Philadelphia, I find my mind wandering back to that Christmas dinner just a few nights ago—to those warm, welcoming people who seemed so much more vibrant than myself.
They seemed so different from me somehow.Younger—even though Harris told me later they were all within a few years of my own age.
Now, I realize why.
They are at the start of their journey together.They are at that wonderful point in their relationships when everything seems so possible, so exciting, sohopeful.
They’re not envisioning this.
They’re not picturing themselves divorced and racing along the expressway to a son who spends every holiday someplace else.They’re not filled with worry for this little human being whom you’d gladly give your own heart to, if you could.
I was that person that they were, once upon a time.
But I’m not anymore—and when I arrive at the hospital, I’m so focused on getting quickly to my son that I don’t eventhinkto text Harris that I’ve arrived yet.I’ll do that later.
My only thoughts are of my son, just as they should be.
And in that moment when I pull back the curtain that gives my little boy privacy and see that face I love more than life itself,I’m finewith being the person I am right now.
I’m fine with being tired and stressed.
I’m fine with the divorce and the drives up to Philadelphia because my ex couldn’t see fit to settle his new life closer to us.
I’m even fine with the mom-bag I carry.
I’m fine with it all—even grateful for it—if I can just see my son smile at me like he is right now.
“Hey, Mom!”my sweet boy greets me.“Do you have lipstick on?”
I burst out laughing at his question, so unexpected from a boy hooked up to machines by a spaghetti maze of wires and tubes.He’s too comfortable in this setting, too used to hospitals and the sights and sounds and smells of them.
The thought of that makes my heart ache.
My fingers brush against my lips as I step past my ex-husband without even acknowledging his presence yet.
I sit on the edge of the stiff bed.“You know, I might have a little bit still on, yes.”I plant a kiss on Nicholas’s forehead.“And now you do, too.”
“Yuck,” he says, right on cue.
I know in that moment, as before, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
