by Iris Parker
It was going to make Ezra sad, but there was nothing I could do about that. Even though my choice was sure to disappoint him, it was for his own good. He was also sad when I made him do homework instead of play games, or when I wouldn’t let him eat pie for dinner every night. Being an adult meant having a better perspective, understanding why it was sometimes necessary to say no even when everything inside of you desperately wanted to say yes.
And Alton…Alton was the biggest, most delicious pie I’d ever seen. And I certainly could’ve devoured him every night for the rest of my life. But I knew where that could lead—regret and heartache.
A soft knock on the door interrupted my musing, and a moment later my mother walked in. I didn’t know how she got here so quickly—probably didn’t want to know, for that matter—but I was grateful to see her all the same. A muffled cry escaped her lips as she rushed to my bed, pausing only to take the baby and hold my hand as only a grandmother knows how to do.
A few rogue tears threatened to spill onto my cheeks, but I managed to hold them back. I didn’t want to interrupt my mother meeting Chloe, or to spoil the moment. This was the last little bit of serenity we’d have for a while, like the final ray of sun peeking through the clouds just before a terrible storm. My mom cooed in excitement, heaping endless praise on Chloe that I could only smile at and agree with.
Ezra, for his part, was now mostly preoccupied with his handheld console and the latest video game that Alton had bought for him.
Alton.
My heart broke again, and all I could do was pray that he would understand.
Again.
He’d only been gone a few minutes, but I was already missing him so much that it was almost impossible to stop the tears. I held out for as long as I could, but eventually my mother noticed something was wrong.
She carefully put Chloe back in the bassinet, and asked what was wrong. Careful not to bother Ezra, I gave her the short version of my decision. Besides, I needed her help.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her face blanching with sadness and worry.
No, I wasn’t.
I really, really, wasn’t.
But this was for the best—it had to be, or else it wouldn’t hurt so much—and so I took a deep breath, my third in as many hours.
“Yes,” I said finally.
Chapter Eight
Jessie
“Mom! Where are my shoes?” Ezra yelled from downstairs, more enthusiastic and excited than anyone had a right to be so early in the morning. I wanted to hide in bed, blankets covering my head. But of course, I couldn’t. Ezra needed help getting ready, the baby needed to be fed, and I needed to wrestle enough words from my head onto the computer screen that I’d have a chance to be paid.
I knew all that. It was the life I’d chosen. Still, I groaned.
I got up, grabbing the tablet in one hand and a still sleepy Chloe in my other arm, her soft little body nestling lovingly against my neck.
“I don’t know where you put them, hon,” I answered as gently as I could muster despite how tired I felt.
“But what if Mrs. Snider gets here before I find them?” Ezra complained, panicking at the prospect that he might miss practice. Taking up hockey had been Ezra’s idea after we got back to Boston, and his initial enthusiasm was still going strong even months later.
“You have plenty of time to look,” I said reassuringly as I got up to help. Balancing a chubby Chloe on my hip, I made my way downstairs. “And if she shows up early, I’m sure she could wait a few minutes.”
Not that Ezra exactly needed his shoes, strictly speaking. We still hadn’t gotten Dr. Flint’s green light to participate in intense athletics yet, and so technically all he did at practice was show up to watch. But having the uniform made him feel like part of the team, and I certainly wasn’t going to take that away from him.
“Found them!” Ezra shouted just as I made it to the bottom of the stairs. I gave him a smile and headed to the kitchen to make us breakfast. With Ezra engaging in increasingly strenuous physical activity and me breastfeeding a hungry three-month-old baby, both of us needed hearty food to keep our energy up.
Ezra wolfed down his meal as fast as he could, as if finishing eating early could make hockey practice come sooner. Seeing him so healthy brought tears to my eyes, but I managed to hold them back and keep smiling. Eventually Ezra looked up from his plate, sudden unrest all over his face. I winced, knowing what was coming.
Coming back to Boston had been an adjustment, and moving into my mom’s small house even more so. But the worst of it was having to answer The Question, the same one that Ezra asked at least every other day.
“When are we calling him?”
“You just called him a couple days ago,” I pointed out.
“I want to talk to him more,” Ezra said. “I miss him.”
I kept my smile up, even as the words felt like shards of glass digging into my heart. Ezra had never directly said I miss him before, and as hard as it was to answer his question normally, hearing that made it so much worse. I hesitated, not sure of how to respond.
On the table, my phone vibrated with an incoming text. I grabbed it and checked the screen, grateful for the interruption.
“Your ride is here,” I said quietly, my throat and lips dry.
Immediately all smiles, Ezra jumped to his feet and ran over to hug me. I hugged him back as hard as I could, praying he wouldn’t notice the tears welling up in my eyes. With a cheerful bye he left, and I braced myself for the onslaught of emotions that I knew was inevitable.
Time hadn’t dulled any of my feelings, and thinking about Alton hurt just as much today as it did the day we left.
I did my best to ignore the pain, putting Chloe someplace safe where she could play with her toys while I tried to write another article. But I already knew it was pointless; the moment I sat down at my desk, I’d just spend the entire time ruminating on the situation. The mere mention of Alton had left me an emotional wreck, just like it always did.
Guilt. Sadness. Longing.
So much damned longing.
I sighed with frustration. I thought that I had been protecting my family, that I was being smart and making the right move. It had all made so much sense at the time—that things would inevitably go wrong after the baby came. Alton’s cabin had been a wonderful place to take refuge from the outside world, but we couldn’t hide forever. Alton needed to return to his old life back in Boston, while Chloe’s presence demanded that I begin a completely new life of my own.
A little pain back then was supposed to save us all from feeling broken-hearted and alone.
It obviously hadn’t worked. I’d been broken-hearted and alone since the day we left; but the idea that my family might be feeling the same way only made it that much more bitter. His presence, his love and care, his smile, his laughter, all of it was gone—and for what? Even my mother, usually my biggest supporter, had seemed distant and unhappy with me ever since getting the news. There was disappointment in her eyes whenever she looked at me now, something I never thought I would live to see.
My heart squeezed with pain. All the regret amounted to nothing, I knew. I’d never even deserved the second chance that Alton had given me, and leaving again had burned my last bridge. He knew exactly how to contact me, but we hadn’t spoken in three months. Not that I could blame him, not when I left so abruptly. I’d been rude and ruthless—out of necessity, I believed back then. But now I just wasn’t sure anymore.
Had I been wrong about everything?
I felt like I was trapped at the bottom of a deep, dark pit. The only joy I’d been able to find was time with my children, except even they were a double-edged sword.
They were his children, too, after all.
And he was still willing to support them. That hurt worst of all; even if he wasn’t talking to me, he was still in contact with my mother—and giving her money to deposit in Ezra and Chloe’s names.
I’d never wanted Alt
on’s money, and I would’ve said no if they had asked. But they hadn’t asked, I’d been cut from the loop entirely. It made me wonder what the future would hold, and the thought was terrifying. What was I going to do if he wanted more involvement with his kids? Would he eventually want custody, shared or otherwise?
My mom said that he was busy with something urgent, but that he wanted to be with Ezra for Christmas. And maybe Chloe, too, she’d added, unable to keep the criticism from her voice. The blood had frozen in my veins—I’d never imagined that he would not only stay interested in being a father, but that he might actually fight me over it.
Of course, I should have imagined it. Why did it surprise me? He was perfect, and perfect guys didn’t just walk away from their children like that. I’d been so consumed with fear and panic that I’d been completely blind. Alton was the man who’d gently wiped the sweat from my brow when I was in labor, full of kisses and compassion and love.
And I’d run away from it all, again.
I looked over at Chloe, and watched as she flailed her chubby baby limbs around while attempting to flip herself over onto her back. Dedication was written all over her face, an intense focus that I recognized immediately.
Alton.
She looked exactly like Alton.
The guilt stabbed me in the heart again. I missed him so much—and worse, so would she.
Jessie
I finished the first draft of my latest article just in time for the end of Chloe's nap. No sooner had I turned off the laptop than she started fussing, and I was relieved that she’d given me such a long stretch to work uninterrupted. Freelancing wasn’t the easiest job in the world, and occasionally led me to write literary masterpieces like The Branch Manager Will See You — Top Ten Most Adorable Dogs With Jobs, but at least it got the bills paid.
Chloe’s thin baby curls tickled my nose as I gave her a little hug and took her over to the old armchair where I usually fed her. She didn’t waste any time before latching on, and for a few minutes I had nothing to do but think.
My mind immediately drifted to Alton, as it always did. I wondered where he was, and what he was doing. Ezra had been very excited that he could get a glimpse of Alton in action with the Bruins, but so far the man hadn’t played a single game. The press was speculating hard about what that might mean, and I couldn’t help but join them.
Was Alton still somehow back at the farm? It made no sense, but in my mind he was there—still with Nanette and Pete, still bare-chested and in all his glory. He was usually wearing those old worn-out jeans, too, the ones he’d had on that blessed day where we had the entire farm to ourselves.
I sighed and looked down, noticing that Chloe had fallen asleep while suckling. Gently I brought her back over to the crib, placing her down on the mattress.
I stole a soft kiss from her chubby cheeks, then silently stretched out. Chloe taking another nap was my cue to be productive again—I still needed to shower, tidy up the house, and cook tonight’s meal all before she woke up again.
But the sound of someone knocking at the door interrupted my plans, and I quietly ran over to it before the sound could wake Chloe back up.
“Hello?” I asked before opening.
“Jessica Wilson?” A male voice asked, tentative and polite.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Talking to strangers probably wasn’t the best idea, but I was intrigued. Nobody that I knew ever called me Jessica, but a random solicitor wouldn’t have known my name at all.
“Hello? I’m looking for a Jessica Wilson,” the voice continued. He sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.
“Who are you?” I answered at last.
“Dominick Henderson,” the voice boomed. “Alton’s friend. And teammate.”
Alton’s name felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped out over my head. I started shaking with fear, wondering what on earth Dominick could be doing here. Panic dawned on me, fast and strong. Had something happened to Alton? The thought barely had time to enter my head before I’d already swung the door open, coming face-to-chest with a man who looked quite a bit like Alton—tall, handsome, the body of a Grecian god.
It did nothing to help allay my terror.
“May I come in?”
“Oh, sure, yes,” I stuttered, apologizing before I stepped away so that Dominick could enter. He took a few steps into the living room, immediately spotting the crib.
“Is that—” he began, cutting himself off with an apologetic shake of the head.“Is that Chloe?” he repeated, now speaking in a whisper.
I nodded, my heart breaking that Dominick knew the name of my daughter. I had no doubt that Alton had told him—her name and, likely, everything else. My guilty conscience summed up images of Alton, feeling even more lost and alone than I’d been these past few months, reaching out to a friend for help.
“Can I see her?” Dominick asked quietly.
“She’s just fallen asleep, but I can—”
“No need to pick her up,” Dominick offered, walking to the crib and just looking down with a smile. Seeing his expression convinced me that whatever had brought him here couldn’t be too dire, so I was able to relax a little.
“Would you like some coffee?” I offered, my voice still cracking slightly. Dominick shook his head, then looked up from Chloe and straight to me.
“No thanks. I actually came here to talk to you about Alton.”
“A—Alton?” I asked, my throat dry and voice barely audible.
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Dominick said quickly, crossing the room to sit on the couch. “He said you needed space and time.”
“He did?” I asked, not sure what to make of the news. Dominick nodded and I felt myself blanch with panic. I needed to keep my composure. “But—so—why are you here?”
“He’s not doing great,” Dominick said, four simple words that were enough to make all the blood rush to my head.
Feeling dizzy, I listened in silence as the man continued.
“He’s not eating, and barely sleeping. When I talk to him, he’s lifeless, like I’m talking to an empty shell that’s learned how to grunt occasionally,” Dominick sighed, the despair in his voice overwhelming me. “So, I came here to ask: is there no other way to do this?”
“I—I didn’t have a choice,” I argued weakly, trying to tell myself that I didn’t need to justify my actions to anyone. But one look in Dominick’s mismatched eyes was enough to shut down every argument I tried to make. Like Alton, Dominick too had been a relentless bachelor.
And, like Alton, he’d turned into a devoted family man.
I swallowed hard, trying to get past the lump that was forming in my throat. The sadness on Dominick’s face was hard to handle, and even harder because I knew that it must’ve been just a small reflection of the pain Alton was going through.
A tear fell into my cheek.
“You did have a choice. You made it. You left,” Dominick said. His tone wasn’t accusing, but it was still clear that he wanted answers. I took a deep breath and braced myself.
“Because I had to. I needed to protect my family,” I answered quietly. “You don’t understand.”
“I’d like to understand,” Dominick interjected. “That’s why I’m here.”
“You mean you’re not here to—” I began, then felt so embarrassed I wanted to throw my hands over my face and hide.
“Here to…?” Dominick asked.
“To, uh, find a resolution,” I finished, wishing I could turn invisible.
“If I can,” Dominick answered. “Alton helped me out of a really bad time recently, and I’d love to repay him. But even if that’s not possible, Alton swears you have your reasons. I’d like to hear them.”
I lowered my head in shame. I had my reasons, all right—reasons like fear, guilt, and shame. All the best foundations to build the rest of your life on top of. But as much as I hated the idea of admitting that to a stranger, this was the closest I’d been to Alton
in months.
And I was willing to take whatever I could get.
“I was afraid,” I began, lowering my head in shame. My eyes sank to the carpet, unable to meet Dominick’s gaze as I confessed.
“Of?”
“Love,” I said. “It hurts too much. More than anything else.”
“Love is beautiful, Jessie.”
“I’m sure it is. Or was, a long time ago. But then…,” my voice trailed off.
“Then what?”
“It never lasts.”
“Sometimes it does,” Dominick said. “If you find the right person, you can build something that lasts forever.”
“I already did that,” I said, my hands shaking with emotion as I got thrown back to a time I’d tried so hard to forget. “I married my first love, you know. And we built something solid together, something that could really endure.”
“And he left you?”
“He didn’t want to,” I explained. “But life only comes with one guarantee—it ends. No matter what you do, or how you feel, or what you’ve built. Eventually, it ends.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Dominick said after a pause.
“After he…after it was over, I needed to undo everything we’d built together. To learn how to live on my own, without ever seeing him again. The only thing that kept me going at all was the fact that I was pregnant, and I couldn’t just give up.”
Dominick’s hand covered mine, giving a reassuring squeeze that would’ve meant the world if only he’d been Alton.
“Love kept me strong, you see,” I continued, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. “Ezra was my everything. I lived for him, loved him more than anything else. The kind of love that makes you willing to do anything, no matter how crazy.”
Dominick averted his eyes, and I knew that he realized what was coming.
“And then, just like with Stephen, cancer swooped down on us. And I spent years watching, waiting, and hoping. I lived in constant fear that I was watching my husband’s death replay in slow motion.”