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We swing by the store on the way home and pick up some groceries, and he gets to work right away grilling chicken and whipping up this delicious rice bowl. He chats with Alex the whole time, and all I can do is sit in silence and watch from the dining table.
Why does he have to be like this?
Great with my kid, amazing in bed, handsome, charming...
...leaving.
Leaving.
Why do they always have to leave?
What is it that makes me fall in love with men who don't want to stay with me?
What's wrong withme?
I'm still thinking about that when the three of us sit down and dig in, the food tasting stale in my mouth even though I'm sure it's delicious. I take a big gulp of white wine and then put my glass down on the table with a clink, and Evan looks up at me with concern.
"Your mom said you're leaving town again," I say quietly.
What is wrong with me?
This isn't a fight; he doesn't have to stay.
We had sex one time and I'm acting like he has some kind of responsibility to me, that he's being disloyal.
"Yeah...I actually just got a call while I was at Chance and Tasha's today," he says. "They want me to come down to Brazil for a few months, help a shelter get situated."
"That sounds cool!" Alex pipes up. "What will you do down there?"
Evan doesn't reply right away, his eyes locked on mine. I can't look at him though, and he eventually looks back at Alex and goes into a rambling description of what he does for Hopeful Hearts.
I can't focus.
My head is spinning.
Because I'm being bombarded with memories of another man who left, and it hurts to remember him. I spin my ring on my finger, staring at the tabletop.
"Are you okay, mom?" Alex asks.
I glance over at him, plastering a smile on my face by instinct. He's starting to know when it's fake though, and I see the fear flicker in his eyes.
"I'm fine, buddy," I say. "I've just got a headache."
"You need something for it?" Evan asks. "I can go grab some ibuprofen."
I stand up suddenly. "I've uh...got some in the medicine cabinet," I say. "I'll be right back."
I walk down the hall and toward the bathroom, shutting myself inside and leaning against the counter. I pull the medicine cabinet open and my eyes dart straight to the bottle of xanax on the shelf.
I haven't needed it in a long time.
I thought I had it together.
But Evan is just stirring up so many things I didn't...
I grab the bottle and swallow a pill dry, willing myself not to cry. I don't want Alex to see me like this when he had to deal with my grief for so many years.
I give myself a few minutes to collect myself, and then I step back outside. I still have stuff to do--clean the kitchen, make sure the dogs are fed, put my kid to bed. I can't just put my life on hold because some guy stepped in and changed everything in a matter of days.
