by Emma Tharp
Washing out my paintbrushes, my cell phone rings. When I look at the caller ID, it’s Patrick’s number. My belly does a flip flop as I dry off my hands and pick up.
“Hello,” I say, my voice breathy from rushing to answer and a little bit of nerves.
“Hi, Carsen. Are you busy? If I’m bothering you, I can call back.”
“No, I was just finishing up a painting, but I’m done now.” I wish I didn’t sound so eager and excited. Hold a little back, Carsen. I don’t want it to sound like I’ve been waiting by the phone for him to call, but by the tone of my voice, that’s exactly how it sounded.
“Good. I was hoping that we could get together and talk. Do you have any free time today or tomorrow?” His tone is neutral; as usual, he gives nothing away.
My heart rate speeds up to an unnatural rate at the thought of getting together with him. I could go over there now, but he’s made me wait three days. He can wait a bit longer. “I’ve got plans this afternoon, but I could stop by later on. I’m not sure what time I’ll be free, but I can text you. Does that work?” I do my best at keeping the nerves out of my voice, but I’m not sure how well it worked.
“That’s fine. I’m working from home for now and I don’t have plans. Whenever you can, please stop by. I’d appreciate the chance to talk.” When he says the last part, I hear it, the slightest bit of warmth. I immediately grin because I’ve missed it these last few days.
“I’d like that, too. I’ll see you later.”
“Goodbye, Carsen.”
“Goodbye.” I hit the end button and hold the phone to my chest.
Not once did he mention Maggie and I doubt he’d invite me over if she was around. I shouldn’t speculate because that can lead to disappointment.
Taking my time, I change out of my painting clothes into shorts and a t-shirt and brush my hair out and put on a little makeup. I’d like to look nice for him and I’d rather he not see the dark circles and redness that rims my eyes from the crying and sleepless nights. I wonder if he’ll look at me like he used to before Maggie showed up. He always made me feel pretty with the way his eyes would drink me in. Shaking my head, I give myself a warning. You’ve got to stop thinking like this.
In my car on the way to the mall, I turn the radio on to the station I normally listen to, a mix of current and 2000s rock. There’s a good song playing so I sing along, a nice distraction for my reeling mind. In the mall parking lot, I drive around a few times trying to decide where to park. At one end, I’ll be closer to sporting goods but the phone store is at the other. I’m not sure which I want to deal with first. Hopefully the phone won’t be too much of a hassle. I’m not even sure if I can buy pepper spray. I think so. Maybe I should do more research on it. Screw it. Turning my car around, I head back in the direction of Patrick’s house. I can’t wait anymore.
The ten minute drive to his house is as nerve-wracking as my driver’s test. It’s difficult to focus on anything but the fact that I get to see Patrick today. I don’t know what I’ll be walking into. Is he going to tell me that he and Maggie are going to get back together and work on their marriage? I’ve been preparing myself for the disappointment of that reality. But what if he tells me he wants me? How would I respond to that? As much as I care for him and want to be with him, I’m not sure if my heart can handle it. If I let myself fall in love with him and he hurts me, how would I survive it? It’s been torture for the past three days, the pain in my chest.
My hands shake on the steering wheel as I pull into Patrick’s driveway. His truck is the only vehicle in the driveway.
Walking up to the door on unsteady legs, I knock before I lose my nerve. Anticipation and anxiety course through me and the emotions I’ve been feeling these past three days threaten to bubble over and spill out of me the second Patrick opens this door. A few shaky breaths later and I can hear his footfalls getting closer.
There he stands in front of me, just like the first time, tall, confident, and absolutely gorgeous. His hair, salt and pepper at the temples, gives him a distinguished look that draws me to him and begs to have my fingers through it. I don’t care that I’m staring, drinking him in, from his bare feet, his toned legs in gym shorts and a t-shirt, to the scruff along his jaw. I’ve missed him.
I put my guard up, compose myself, wipe my clammy hands on my shorts, and say, “Hi.”
“Hey, come in.” His tone is light and easy; he seems relaxed. Stepping aside, he lets me pass the threshold.
“Where is Maeve?” I ask.
“She’s napping. Just went down about ten minutes ago.”
“How are you?” I ask, my voice sounds formal and mechanical.
Patrick leads me into the living room and we sit together on the couch. The room looks different. There’s less décor. The lamp in the corner is missing, some knick-knacks along the mantel are gone, but the biggest change is the painting that once hung above the fireplace is gone and it’s been replaced with the painting that I did. It’s of Patrick, Maeve, and I at the dress shop. I snapped a selfie of us and it turned out so great I knew I had to paint it the second I took it. Don’t get your hopes up, Carsen. I’m speechless.
“I’ve been okay; it’s been a challenging few days for me. What about you?” he asks.
“I haven’t been doing well at all. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through,” I say, gazing into his sad blue eyes. His shoulders are slumped forward and the desire to hug him, show him comfort is overwhelming, but I can’t do that. I’ve got to keep my distance and my head on straight.
Nodding, he angles his body toward mine. “I’m sorry, Carsen, that you had to go through all of this with me. It’s been a mess.” He stares down at his hands clasped on his lap.
“Do you want to talk to me about it?”
“Yes. That’s why I asked you to come over. Let me start by saying that this isn’t easy for me. None of it. I never want to hurt anyone and I’m horrible with expressing emotions, so please bear with me.” He gives me a small smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes.
This is a struggle for him and I know it, but I need to hear it all, as ugly as it might be. “It’s okay. Take your time.”
He exhales a deep breath and his chest rises and falls. “Right. When Maggie showed up at the wedding, it was like the floor dropped out from under me. It threw me into a tailspin and I wasn’t prepared for it. I hated the way I treated you that night and I can’t apologize enough for it. And when I left to go out for a run in the middle of the night and saw that you were gone when I got back, I was miserable because I knew that everything between us could be ruined.” He moves his hand like he wants to touch me, but pauses and puts it back in his lap.
At least he’s apologizing; it’s a start.
“Okay, can you tell me what happened with Maggie?”
“The first night she was here, I couldn’t even talk to her because I was too angry. The next morning, I could have a conversation without blowing up even though it was hard. I never realized I was holding on to so much resentment until she was standing in front of me.” His brows knit together and his lips are pinched together in a tight line.
“I can’t imagine how hard it was for you,” I say, my tone sympathetic.
“For months, I thought I’d feel relief when I saw her, if I ever saw her again, but it wasn’t like that. And when she started explaining why she left I didn’t understand it, and I tried. You’re not going to believe it.” Shaking his head, he looks off in the distance with an unfocused gaze as if he’s still contemplating what Maggie told him.
“What did she say?”
Patrick grasps the back of his neck and gives it a squeeze. “She told me that after we had Maeve she didn’t feel maternal. Do you believe that? We tried for so long to have her and then when she was here, Maggie was jealous of the affection I had for our daughter and the fact that I was able to bond with Maeve in a way she couldn’t.”
Wow. I didn’t see that coming. “Oh, that is surprising. Do
you think she has post-partum?”
“No, she didn’t mention that she was depressed. Only that she never felt maternal. I deduced that she’s a narcissist. And what was hardest to swallow was that she wanted me all to herself. How did she think that was going to work? It was bizarre. And looking back, she pointed out things that I didn’t pay much attention to because I was busy being a new dad, but I was the one who would get up with Maeve, and I’d change her, and rock her to sleep. I never minded any of it, I loved it.”
“Of course. You’re an amazing dad,” I say. He’s extremely attentive to Maeve. It baffles me that Maggie wasn’t. Even as her nanny, I’m drawn to her. She’s beautiful and an easy baby to love and care for, but I don’t pretend to understand what was going on with Maggie.
“Thank you. I wouldn’t have it any other way. And as Maggie was explaining her feelings, she told me that’s why she had to leave. She was hoping that the distance would make her miss the baby. Do you believe that?” It wasn’t a question and his voice rises. “After everything we went through, she decided to leave and go radio silent. It’s unbelievable. And she comes back and tells me that she didn’t miss Maeve, but she did miss me and wants me. Like we can go back to what we were.”
Shit. That’s what I thought was going to happen. That she’d come back and want what’s hers. “I don’t get it.”
Widening his eyes, he says, “Me either. She wants me back, but what about Maeve? Our daughter.”
“What did you tell her?” That’s the most important question. Where do things stand with them?
“You know, part of me contemplated it. What would it look like to live with a woman who doesn’t want to parent our daughter? Could I do it? And in the end, it was easy. There were no feelings left toward her. I had to tell her that I fell out of love with her.” There’s hurt in his eyes, but also there’s something else, relief maybe.
To tell his wife that he wasn’t in love with her must’ve been incredibly difficult. She had to have been heartbroken. “I’m sorry. It couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t. But I couldn’t fake it with her. What she did, it was too much to come back from. She let me down and hurt me too much. So for the last few days we’ve been working out details and moving her things out.” His puts his hand up, sweeping it around the room. “As you can probably tell, things are missing. They were hers.”
“You put up my painting,” I say with disbelief in my tone.
Leaning in toward me, he says, “It’s beautiful. You’re very talented. I hope you don’t mind. I saw it in your room.”
My chest heats up with his compliment and what it means that he hung up a picture of us. “Of course. I painted it for you.”
“Carsen, you mean a great deal to me. And I know that I acted like an idiot the night of the wedding. I was overwhelmed. Can you forgive me?” This time, he doesn’t hesitate to grab my hand.
Pulling back my hand, I say, “Patrick, I understand that you were in a bad place, but you’ve got no idea how much it hurt me. It was like you were dismissing me.”
He shakes his head and his face crumbles. “I’m so sorry for causing you pain. All I could think about for the last three days was you. I kept seeing your face and the look of disappointment there the last time we spoke. You’ll never know how much I hated myself for treating you that way, but I was lost at that moment and I couldn’t even see straight. All I wanted to do that night was come in your room and hold you and forget about the mess that waited for me, but that wouldn’t have been fair to you. I had to work through all of my shit.”
Oh, how different things would be if he didn’t push me away and had come to my room that night. My belly still flutters when he says it though. “Do you think you’re really through with it all?” I ask, knowing he’s just at the beginning of all the emotions he’s going to have to deal with. It’s going to be a long road to heal from this.
“The funny thing is that while it was difficult telling her things were over between us, I think it was harder when I didn’t know where she was or what I did to make her leave. I know I’ll still have to process things, but for now I feel better. Well, that is with the exception of you, Carsen.” He’s gazing at me with those beautiful eyes of his, full of regret. “Did I mess this up beyond repair?”
Did he? I’m not sure. I’d like to forgive and forget, but my heart is fragile and afraid. And what if I tell him that I want to try again and down the road he hurts me? It’ll be so much harder to get over then. Maybe I should focus on me. “I don’t know.”
A ghost of a smile appears on his lips. “It’s better than a no because the heart isn’t something you can turn on and off and you’re in here.” He puts his hand on his chest. “I missed you.”
My heart turns to mush in my chest. For a guy who says he’s bad at expressing his emotions, he’s certainly doing a good job now. “I missed you, too, but I’m so scared to jump back into a relationship, or whatever we were.”
“I get that. It’s normal for you to have fears, but what I’m telling you is that everything has changed.” The tone of his voice goes from serious to happy. “I want to know you better. We started out fast and furious. It was intense and I loved it and I don’t want to lose that, but now I’d like to start again without Maggie between us.”
It sounds perfect. Like everything I want, but it also sounds too good to be true. “What happens when things get hard? Will you shut down again because I can’t take it? I’m a communicator and need to have that back. Can you do that?”
When his hand comes to mine this time I let him grasp it, and heat instantly moves up my arm. “I don’t know, but I’d like to try. Can we do that?”
“This is a lot for me.” I still can’t process it all. Standing, I walk to the other side of the room to put a little distance between us and clear my head. “Maybe I should leave,” I say, even though I don’t want to.
Patrick is up and on his feet so fast I barely have time to register his proximity. “Please don’t go yet.” He grazes the skin of my arm with the tip of his finger, his touch waking up my senses. “I know I’m not the easiest person to understand but now that my life has some closure, it feels like I can start again.” Patrick holds my arms and turns me toward him. “What if you started off as my nanny again? What do you say we try that?”
It’d be so easy to slip back into this life with him, but I need to take it slow. I should focus on school and myself, but I do love Maeve and need the money. “I think I could do that, but I’m not moving in this time. Let’s go slow.”
“I’m going to hug you now.” He pulls me into his arms and squeezes me tight before I can object. “Thank you, Carsen. I’m going to prove to you that I can be a good man for you.”
In this embrace, my heart and my soul feel full and I know I made the right decision.
Epilogue
Patrick
“Sure, you can have more mashed potatoes,” I say to Maeve. My little five-year-old loves to eat and she’s really been enjoying the restaurants here in Ireland. This one serves family-style Irish meals; it’s one of my favorites.
“Do you want gravy, Maeve?” Amelia asks from across the table.
“Yes, please, Auntie,” Maeve says, green eyes full of excitement at the prospect of more food.
Nothing makes me happier than having my entire family together in my favorite country. We rode Harleys around the winding roads of the Irish countryside with my brothers and their wives today. The views were stunning, picture perfect lush green landscapes on our way to the Blarney Stone. Carsen has never been here and it warmed my heart to see her ear-to-ear smile as she took in the views and breathed in the fresh-cut grass scent that I’ve grown to love through my travels here.
It means the world to me that I get to introduce her to my favorite places. She and I have had our ups and downs, but we’ve managed to stay strong through all of it. That’s why today is so important to me.
When I’m with Carsen, it’s as i
f a fundamental part of me has clicked into place. One that I never realized was missing. I’m a different man now with her in my life. Spending time with her and Maeve, I’m more present. And I’m prioritizing time with my brothers again; we have a once a week happy hour set so we can catch up outside the office. Work takes a back seat now. Not that I’m neglecting my responsibilities, it’s just that I don’t want to miss anything.
“Me, too,” Finley, my three-year-old niece, says to her mom, Lettie. Her short brown hair has the softest curl to it and her features resemble her mother’s.
“Sure, sweetie,” Braeden says to his daughter as he puts a scoop of potatoes on her plate. It’s been fun seeing him turn to mush at his baby girl’s every whim. I know the feeling.
“Today was amazing; thank you so much for bringing me here,” Carsen says to me, giving my leg a squeeze under the table.
Kissing the sweet skin of her cheek, I say, “I’m happy you’re enjoying it.”
The waitress stops at the table, dropping off apple tarts for everyone. Jackson’s eyes get wide and he rubs his stomach. “None of you are going to like these, so feel free to pass them over here.”
There’s a round of laughter at the table, and not a single person passes their tart to him.
My heart starts beating like a jackhammer in my chest. I was only ever going to do this once in my life, yet here I am again. In fact, as our relationship progressed over the years, and it was clear that Carsen and I were going to commit to each other, I was upfront with her that I wasn’t going to get married again. It just didn’t seem necessary, especially since my divorce with Maggie was long and exhausting. The only good thing that came out of it is that Maggie never asked for any type of custody of Maeve, which makes me sad for my daughter, but my life is easier for it. I don’t have to miss a single day of her life and for that I’m grateful.