Page 4 of Surrender

If he thought I was thinking about leaving him, he’d turn on the charm and shower me in affection.

Rinse and repeat.

And what was I to do? A pregnant stay-at-home mom with a two-year-old? My parents and I weren’t close, and my best friend was his sister.

I didn’t have anywhere to go. Anywhere to hide. The situation didn’t feel dire enough to utilize a women’s shelter.

Before I could find a way out of the situation Devon created for us, he died.

I grieved for my children. They’ll grow up without a father, likely without any memories of him. They were only two-and-a-half and a newborn at the time. I mourned him by mourning the relationship I thought I’d had when I accepted his proposal. The empty promises and crushed dreams. I cried for the loss of someone’s life. In other ways, I felt a sense of relief that the lies and manipulation and strange visits would stop.

That my children could grow up in peace.

I swallow against the shallow lump in my throat, brought on by becoming a widow at thirty-three. With a roll of the shoulders, I return to mom mode, shoving aside the recent past in order to pick up my kids.

I step out of the car into swirling snowflakes. The gray sky overhead a mirror of my mood.

Lucy clocks me the moment I step through the door. She waits patiently on the other side of the locked entry, eyeing me through the glass window while the sweet receptionist signs me in. The security measure gives me an extra boost of confidence that my babies will be safe here without me.

The second I clear the door, her little arms wrap tightly around my knees. “Momma!”

“Hey, Peanut.” I scoop her into a tight embrace and plant a kiss on her soft cheek. The scent of her lotion and peaches engulfs me like a soothing balm. “Did you have fun?”

“I show you. C’mere.”

Her wriggling signals for me to set her down. Once on her feet, she cruises through the main play area, stopping once she reaches a tower of wooden blocks on an alphabet rug.

I sink to my knees. “Great job, Lucy. You built a big, strong tower.”

She beams. “Dad see it?”

My heart slows before picking up twice as fast. I tuck a soft section of her blond hair behind her ear. “No, Peanut. Dad can’t see it.”

“I show him?”

“You can’t show him.”

Her little pink mouth twists in consideration before she nods once. “He dieded?”

“That’s right. Daddy died.” My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.

“Okay,” she says simply and hops to her feet.

“Are you ready to go?” I offer my hand, easing us away from this conversation. I’m okay with the way we’re processing this big change in her life, but I know others don’t agree with the straightforwardness.

She slips her tiny, warm hand in mine. A serious expression settles in place. “Don’t forget brudder.”

A genuine smile crosses my face. “Of course! We would never forget Bennett.”

“I’d miss him.”

“Don’t you worry, sweet girl. I bet he’s waiting to see you.”

The smile she gifts me chases away the clouds from the day.

We pick up Bennett from the infant room, complete with a freshly changed diaper. The six-month-old coos happily from his infant seat, and his sister skips beside him. I load up the kids in my sedan and make the short drive across town to the motel I passed on my way in.

I haven’t stepped foot in Fairview Valley in nearly fifteen years, but it’s quite obvious the town hasn’t changed much. If my memory is correct, the motel hasn’t seen much more than a fresh coat of paint. I wonder if high school kids still rent rooms to sneak away from the watchful eyes of their parents like my friends and I did so many years ago.

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