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He’d sent Gray to pick up the rest of his stuff while Sam had been in rehab. Seeing his side of the closet so bare had taken some getting used to—she still wasn’t sure she was accustomed to the sight.
Over the past year Sam had texted her, called, left notes and flowers. He’d sent Marley flowers, as well, and she had always displayed them on the nightstand right next to her bed. She wasn’t naive. She knew he wanted their life back, but hearts weren’t so easily mended. In theory, having a whole family again sounded picture perfect, but reality proved to be a different story.
Tara would never admit to anyone that she still had each and every note Sam had mailed—yes, mailed—or put under her windshield wiper over the past year. They were in a neat, orderly stack in the top drawer of her dresser.
When she’d received the first note, she’d wanted to shred it and throw it away because even seeing his handwriting had been too painful. But she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it because, as much as she wanted to hate Sam, she knew addiction wasn’t a choice. He certainly hadn’t chosen to get hurt and have a physician prescribe something so addictive. Yet she’d had to let him go in order to save him.
“Are you okay, Mommy?”
Tara turned her attention to Marley and smiled, though her throat burned with emotions. “Better now that you’re home.”
“Is Daddy okay? You guys seem kinda sad.”
Why were kids so in tune with their surroundings? Tara could tell Marley eight times to get her shoes on in the morning for school and her daughter would still shuffle around in her socks until the last minute. Yet here she was, picking up on the tension between her parents without a word being spoken on the topic.
Tara would have to work harder because, as much as she hated to admit it, Sam had been right. They had to pretend to be happily married, just like they had been.
Oh, they’d been so happy. They’d been that sickening couple who held hands in public, who sent lovey-dovey texts throughout the day, who woke up holding each other after making love and falling asleep in each other’s arms. They’d had their occasional disagreements, but nothing they hadn’t been able to overcome.
Until addiction crept in and they couldn’t overcome.
“Mommy?”
Tara smoothed Marley’s hair away from her face and tapped on her daughter’s nose. “What do you say we binge-watch your favorite movies all day? We’ll have your favorite foods, too.”
“Well, Dad is already making tacos, so that only leaves pizza for lunch.”
“Pizza it is,” Sam stated, coming into the room juggling three bowls of strawberry ice cream. “I’ll go out and get the stuff and you can help me make it.”
“Deal,” Marley squealed as she took her ice cream. “Are both of you off today?”
Sam’s eyes met Tara’s. He offered a smile and a wink. “I took time off to be with my family.”
Those last two words nearly gutted Tara. Sam seemed a little too settled into this temporary role and they’d only been faking it a few hours. How would she survive the rest of this farce?
More important, what would happen when Marley remembered that her father didn’t actually live here anymore? How would she react to reliving her dog dying, her father leaving? The first time had been crushing to her sweet girl. She’d had nightmares, worried something would happen to her daddy because he wasn’t home where he should be. Tara had just gotten Marley sleeping through the night again.
Tara didn’t like the lies already mounting. Nothing about this was okay. Nothing.
After they finished their ice cream, Tara sent Marley to her room to get her favorite pillow, blanket and stuffed animal for movie time. Once she was out of earshot, Tara crossed to the mantel and adjusted some of the photos to give her hands something to do.
“I lived with half-truths and flat-out lies for too long,” she started. “I don’t like this, Sam.”
His boots shuffled on the hardwood floor and she tensed as he moved closer. But he didn’t reach for her.
“I don’t like lying to her, either,” Sam agreed. “But we have to trust the doctors. Telling her about an entire year will only confuse her and hurt her even more. Do you want her to relive that all over again? And then again when she really remembers it?”
