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“That book was a gift for Teddy, not you. And yeah, I can see how your ex-wife cheating on you is a wound that’s going to be hard to heal from, but your son misses his mother, whether you hate her or not.” Emily picks up the book and holds it out to me. “Look at it.”
“I don’t want to see it.”
“Look. At. It.” she says, her teeth gritted in almost as much anger as I feel coursing through me.
Snatching it nastily from her hand, I flip it open, unprepared for the way seeing these pictures again rips at the wound inside of me. One I thought had scabbed over but is clearly still open and tender and achy.
The first page says My Family, like the cover, but once I flip past it, there’s a photo of me and Melody when we got married, both of us looking happy and young and in love.
The next page has a photo of Melody when she was pregnant, hands on her tummy and a smile on her face, and another picture of her holding Teddy in the hospital, with me standing behind the two of them. Mel looks tired, and I remember how exhausted she was after 20 hours of laboring. My eyes drop to the bottom of the page, where small letters say My mommy and daddy loved me before I was even born!
I swallow thickly, the bristle along my spine beginning to calm slightly when I flip the page and find a collage of photos of my parents with Teddy during different stages of his life as a baby. More words at the bottom say Babies are hard to take care of, but I’m so lucky that Grandma and Grandpa helped change my diapers so mom and dad could get some sleep. And on the right side of the page are several photos of me and Melody passed out on the couch, along with the one infamous photo of me asleep in front of the fridge.
At that I laugh, because I can’t help it.
There are a few more pages, a variety of photos of Teddy and me and his mom during his first year, little notes here and there in simple words explaining what’s going on in the pictures.
But then on the last page, I realize it’s just me and Teddy, and I blink a few times, pushing to keep my emotions in check as I read the words at the bottom. My daddy is my best friend! I can’t wait to grow up big and strong like him!
I close the book, my jaw sore from how hard I’m clenching my teeth.
“I didn’t go digging for stuff,” Emily tells me, voice soft and wounded. “There were three boxes in the corner of my closet, and when I saw the pictures of Teddy as a newborn with Melody, I just…thought it would be a good gift for him to have as he gets older. There are no pictures of her anywhere in the house, and while that might be fine for you, he deserves a chance to remember what little of her he can.”
I don’t say anything to her because…what can I say? I ripped her to shreds for making something for Teddy that I should have done myself. Even though I might hate Melody for what she did to me, how she betrayed me and how poorly she handled herself as a wife and a mother, Teddy doesn’t understand those things. And he doesn’t need to, not until he’s much older.
Unlike the last time Emily ripped me a new one and stormed off, this time, I don’t let her get away without an actual apology.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, and she freezes as she’s exiting the kitchen, though she doesn’t turn around. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. This is…a really great gift that I know Teddy will appreciate for a long time.”
Emily finally turns around, and when she does, I catch the hint of gloss in her eyes, making me wonder if she’s trying not to cry.
“So, thank you.”
She nods her head then turns, filing out of the kitchen, the sound of her feet heading upstairs an indication that she’s retreating to her room.
Why does it feel like there’s this massive distance between me and Emily? Haven’t we moved past that? Or did those few wonderful weeks of familiarity and camaraderie—how I felt something turn over in my chest when she smiled at me—did I imagine it all?
I hope not.
And I desperately want it back.
I let out a long sigh, wondering when this shit will get easier. When I’ll stop getting so angry all the time. When I’ll feel more like myself again. When I’ll be better for Teddy and not so…whatever this version of me is.
Broken. Tired. And angry. So angry.
Emily’s previous recommendation to go to therapy crosses my mind again, and I realize maybe it’s really time. For me and for Teddy.
He might have gotten over his nighttime issues, but that doesn’t mean his natural fears about disappearing parents have necessarily been resolved. There might be a whole host of issues left for him to process, and I’ve been selfish in not prioritizing that for him.
And for me.
chapter sixteen
emily
“Look who it is, Teddy. It’s Auntie Leighton!” I say, excitement in my voice as I unhook him from his stroller and he sprints into Leighton’s apartment, jumping into her arms.
Leighton almost falls backward, surprise and joy evident on her face.
