Page 3 of Loved By You

I exhale, trying to ignore the little knot of worry about him being deployed forming in my belly.

Ria

Stay safe, big bro. We love you x

The next message I’m not so excited to read. I nervously click to open it, my thumb trembling.

Alex

Ria, come home. This is stupid. We can sort this.

I don't respond. He's been blowing up my phone all week and I refuse to let him get into my head and ruin today for me. I close my eyes, take in a deep breath, and shove the phone back in my pocket.

“Gary left already?” Ali, one of my best friends, calls as she walks from the kitchen, carrying two iced coffees.

“Yeah, he had to get back to work.”

“Damn. I wanted to say bye and hug that wall of muscle before he left,” she declares, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Ali, he’s old enough to be your dad.” I shudder.

“I know,” she says with a smirk. “Just how I like them.”

Shaking my head, I take my drink from her. “No, Ali. Just no.”

“So, the kitchen is almost unpacked. Gabby is somewhere upstairs, losing a battle with a box of Lexi’s and Elle’s toys. She was almost buried alive by the boxes. I love your girls like they are my own but jeez, they have a lot of stuff,”

I nod my agreement, because I had to pack it all up. “Tell me about it. If I dare throw any of it away, Lexi will lose her damn mind, and honestly, I am at the point with her where I’m just picking my battles to make it to bedtime. Who knew four-year-old’s were so brutal.”

I take a sip of my iced coffee, welcoming the sugary taste and the cooling effect the ice has on the burning sensation that's been lodged in my throat since the night my marriage ended. Motherhood has been the hardest and most rewarding thing I have ever done, but the idea of doing this alone now makes me feel physically sick.

Every night I ask myself if I made the right decision… But remembering how unhappy I was, how every day was spent wondering where he was, who he was with, and then treading on eggshells on the rare occasions he was home, I know I’ve done the right thing. Me and the girls deserve more.

God, when I think about my girls, I know I need to make sure nothing and no one dampens the spark in them. I know all too well how that feels, and I'll be damned if that happens to them. A pain courses through my heart at the idea. Taking another sip of my coffee to help wash away the thoughts, I hear Gabby shouting.

“Ria, should we be concerned that some of Lexi’s Barbie dolls have their heads missing and one looks like she's been tied up?”

I laugh. “No, it's all good. Apparently, it's normal for kids her age to do that.”

“Ain't nothing normal about that girl and I mean that in the best way,” Ali smiles, bumping her shoulder. I nod, agreeing.

“Okay, then… I'll put the decapitated Barbies in their Dreamhouse,” her disembodied voice declares. Gabby is the final piece of our trio. We met at a therapy group for young teens called Teenhood. Gabby joined a couple of years after Ali and I and the three of us have been inseparable ever since. Nothing like some serious trauma to bond you all. None of us have had it easy, but they prove the hardest life battles can bring you the greatest rewards.

I point to Ali, signaling that I best go and rescue Gabby, and then I walk up the stairs to the girls' new room.

The soft pink walls glisten as the sunlight bounces off the crystal light shade that we brought with us from Lexi’s old room, sending rainbows dancing across the space, entrancing me and making me smile.

My attention is pulled back to the present when the sight of Gabby catches my eye. She’s surrounded by boxes and stuffed animals trying to build the Barbie Dreamhouse.

I really do have the best girlfriends. Not many friends would give up their Saturday to build kids’ toys, clean your new house, and put together furniture.

“I’m gonna need an old lady nap before Nancy’s bachelorette.” Ali’s petite frame appears in the doorway, rolling her eyes at the state of the room before she flops onto Lexi’s still unmade bed, her blonde hair splaying all around her. “I’m dead on my feet.”

“Oh, crap. I totally forgot about that. Ugh, I think I might bail. I miss the girls. All I want to do is FaceTime them before they go to bed and then soak in a hot bath with a glass of wine and have a cry whilst listening toWhitney Houston.”

“Well, that’s fucking depressing, Ri,” Ali declares, pushing herself up to sit. “Nobody died. It’s Saturday night. You're kid free and you are coming out. No sad girl Saturdays for you.” Grabbing my shoulders, she gives me a shake.

“I know, I know”. I’m just so tired.”

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