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I ease my way out of the bed, kiss Olivia’s forehead and tuck her in. Her eyes are already closed, so I stand there and watch for a few moments. I silently thank that older woman and Sky again, and then make a vow to do better where my daughter is concerned.
Me and Libby against the world. It’s always been that way.
Even when she was around.
I pick the frame up from Olivia’s nightstand, look between the woman behind the glass and the spitting image of her lying curled up in bed.
Yes, my wife was pretty. I’ll give her that. And that’s all I needed at first, I guess. Just getting my business off the ground, I didn’t really take the time to dig deeper, so I’m no innocent bystander in all this. Not even close.
I liked her on my arm, having her as my plus one. I liked falling into bed with her, appreciated her body and the way she moved with me. I just didn’t know any better. Couldn’t define the pit I always had in my stomach afterward when she’d roll out from underneath me, go into the bathroom and close the door. She never looked me in the eye, during the act or after.
We were burning out right around the time she came home drunk from a night out with “friends” and announced she was pregnant. And loving my daughter the way I do, I’m ashamed to admit that I hated her mother in that moment. I didn’t say a word. Didn’t have to. She studied my expression and said, “It’s not like I want to marry you either, but I’m having this baby.”
I used to blame myself. And she piled it on, too. She’d tell meIwas the distant one, that I never had time for her, that I ignored her. And for a while there she had me going. So I spent the next seven months trying. Trying to get her to slow down and stop acting like she was still in college. Trying to see the good in her. Trying to ignore the late-night phone calls she answered, making excuses and accusing me of being paranoid when I pressed to know who it was.
Yeah, she was pretty.
But she wasn’t nice.
Chapter Eleven
Skylar
I took the last of my midterms this morning, so I’m officially more than halfway through my first semester here.
Am I still homesick? Yes. Am I lonely? Sometimes. Do I still find myself pining away for Tyler? Hardly ever. And that tells me I made the right decision.
He’s still with Lila from what I hear. Sienna doesn’t offer that up and neither does Garth. That’s strictly grapevine information, or what I gather from idly stalking their pages. It doesn’t hurt, but maybe it does sting a little. I think there will always be some thread connecting me and Tyler, a first love kind of thing. But I’m pretty sure it’s my friend who I’m missing, not my boyfriend.
Walking home after grabbing a post dance practice beer with my friends, I’m as high as a kite. The endorphins from dancing for ninety minutes straight combined with that one light beer has me feeling euphoric in a silly way.
“Am I calling too late?”
Sienna laughs. “No, weenie, it’s only nine o’clock.”
“I just figured you might be tired.”
“You’re actually more tired in the first trimester. According to the book, I’m supposed to have boundless energy now that I’m in the second trimester.”
“I can’t believe you’re halfway there already.”
“I know. And when you come home for Thanksgiving next week you’re going to be shocked at the size of me. I’m huge!”
“She looks great,” I hear Garth call out from the background.
“Aw,” we say in unison before laughing.
“It’s going to be so weird, right?”
I nod even though she can’t see me. “Our first holiday without them.”
“I drove by the house the other day. It looks like whoever bought the place is taking care of it. There was a fall wreath on the door and pumpkins on the stoop.”
“That makes me really happy for some reason.”
“Me too,” my sister says. “But you’re sounding pretty chipper nowadays anyway.”
“Was I a total Eeyore back in September?”
