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“Why are we making tonight about me? This is about you.”
“It’s about both of us finding our way through the swamp of loss and looking for meaning in what remains.”
“‘Meaning in what remains,’” he says. “I like that. Can I use it in a post?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll give you credit.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Sure I do.”
“By the way… Everything in this room is new since Mike died. I completely redecorated.” The room has belonged only to me—and my kids, of course—since it was finished.
“Good to know.”
He strips down to underwear and points to a doorway. “Bathroom?”
“Yes, and there are new toothbrushes in the cabinet. Make yourself at home.”
“Thanks.”
For the first time in hours, I glance at my phone. My mom has reported that the kids went to bed easily and were well behaved.
She’d never tell me if they weren’t. Usually, I hear about it from them. Like Sophia telling me Tyler was fresh to Grandma or Laney pitched a fit at bedtime. When I ask my mother about those things, she downplays them.
“They were fine,” she always says. I get that she’s unwilling to add to my burden, and I’m grateful for the instances when she and my dad deal with behavior issues so I don’t have to. I deal with plenty of them on my own, which is one of the hardest parts of single parenthood for me—not having another adult in the room to back me up like I did when Mike was here.
I was so caught up with juggling three kids, a house, a marriage and a few important friendships that I failed to notice that my own husband was leading a double life right under my nose. The company he and Steve founded was offered a big contract with a Denver-based firm that had offices in the DC area as well. For a time, Mike and Steve kept an apartment near the Denver airport to use when they were there for longer stretches. Sometimes, Mike would be there for a week or two at a time. I remember thinking then that single motherhood didn’t look good on me—and that was before Laney arrived, the third child Mike convinced me we needed to complete our family.
“What’re you thinking about?” Gage asks when he returns from the bathroom and sits next to me on the bed.
“About Mike working in Denver for a week or two at a time, and how, after the gut-wrenching effort we put into repairing our marriage after the first time it happened, it never occurred to me that he’d cheat on me while he was there. Part of me wants to know how it happened, how they met, how long they were together. Was it a one-night thing or a full-on relationship that led to the baby?”
“What difference would knowing those details make at this point?”
“None, I suppose, but I still want to know.” I stand and go into the bathroom. When I return a few minutes later, he’s gotten into bed.
“I figured that was your side by the well-occupied bedside table.”
“You figured right.” I’ve changed into flannel pajama pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt because I can’t get warm no matter what I do. When I get in bed, Gage reaches out to me, encouraging me to come to him.
I curl up to him and sigh when he holds me just right.
9
IRIS
“You know what makes me almost madder than what Mike did?”
“What’s that?”
“Steve having my son’s DNA tested without my consent. Who does that?”
“I thought that was very strange, too. I mean, I get that he wanted proof before he brought it to you, but having the DNA tested should’ve been your call, not his.”
“Exactly. I feel so violated by that.”
