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Doubt shadowed my mind as I watched her slump into the seat next to me. She looked so defeated. As much as I hated seeing that expression, part of me felt justified.
She plucked her apron from her waist and folded it up, placing it neatly on the table. “You have to try, Adam. For Henry.”
“Henry might very well be dead.”
She slammed the table. “He’s not dead.”
“I don’t see why you care so much.”
“I don’t see why youdon’t.”
I scrubbed my cheek, feeling the five o’clock shadow growing on my jaw. Everything was out of place. Chaos reigned wherever I looked. None of this was going to go away without some effort on my part, but my exhaustion was taking over. It was hard to push forward when it felt useless to try. Couldn’t she see that?
“I care a lot more than you think,” I argued in a low voice. “You just don’t see it.”
“No, I think you’re just taking the easy route.”
I growled. “I’m not.”
“Prove me wrong,” she said while standing up. “Call Marina. Go to her. whatever you have to do.” She leaned toward me. “Because if you don’t, I will.”
That wasdefinitelynot going to happen. Not in a million damn years.
I pushed away from the table. “You wouldn’t dare, Lottie.”
“Watch me.”
She marched into the hallway, disappearing into the shadows beyond where the slam of a door echoed loudly. Her absence hurt me in ways that her words couldn’t. She was only a few feet away at most, yet I didn’t want to go after her. She would probably chew my ear off about how I didn’t care enough.
But the opposite was the problem. I caredtoomuch.
What she thought of me mattered. How she perceived me was more important than me eating her delicious food. Being an outstanding father ranked higher than everything. Yet the helplessness I felt was immovable. And I needed help. But I couldn’t ask for help.
I loosened the collar of my shirt while marching back into the small dining area. The food smelled so good that my stomach twisted with irritation, begging to be fed. She spent an hour preparing the steak tips with Brussels sprouts. Why wouldn’t I chow down on it?
Grumbling with aggravation, I dropped into the chair and slowly picked at my meal. Once I had a few bites under my belt, my hunger swelled like a black hole ready to swallow everything in its path. Within minutes, the entire plate was gone as I was licking the juice off my fingers. I hadn’t even bothered with a fork.
My body vibrated with fatigue. Though the food helped, I knew it wouldn’t be long until I had to get to bed. With Charlotte back there, I considered the couch, realizing how much this resembled a typical family fight. It was just another Thursday night in the Bradley household.
Only it wasn’t Marina. It was Charlotte.
And I caredsomuch about whether she wanted to patch things up.
I swept my fingers through my hair.I fucked up, didn’t I?
My guilt sent me to the couch where I sprawled over the cushions. Once I found a comfortable position, my muscles screamed with relief, sleep taking over in a matter of seconds. It wouldn’t be long. Just a nap. That was all I needed.
***
I woke with a start sometime in the early hours of the morning. Shadows shrouded my vision until I sat up and noticed the glimmer of light from down the hall. My bedroom door was cracked. Charlotte was up. Or she fell asleep with the light on.
Either way, she was probably still angry.
The events from the night before tumbled back into my mind, reminding me why I felt like such a piece of shit. I patted my pockets to find my phone, whipping it out to check the screen. No calls or texts. The time glared back at me, reminding me of how little sleep I had gotten.
I’m just delaying the inevitable, I thought as I thumbed through my contacts.When Marina says no, Charlotte will understand. I just have to get it over with.
Instinct took over. My thumb found Marina’s number without me having to think about it. From there, I drifted out of my body, refusing to feel the emotions I knew would surface from years of repression.
