Page 130 of It's Always Us

I watch her, just beginning to waddle, as she walks through the sliding glass doors. Her hand slides over and under her belly to support it. I bite my cheeks to keep from losing it. I fist my hands, wanting to beat the absolute shit out of something. Anything.

But I can’t. I have to figure out how to let this go without it drowning me. I need to do what I’ve always done. Play the game. The one that’s always saved me. I need a team, a contract . . . something to work toward. Something that will help take away a little bit of the rage that’s threatening to boil over.

Chapter 38

LEX

“How is she?”

I carefully lower myself to the couch, completely exhausted, and it’s seriously becoming a challenge to get up and down. Like a big rig tow truck, I need flashing lights and a backup horn.

Grandpa waits patiently in his chair while I try to get comfortable. The bags under his eyes tell me he hasn’t slept much, either. At least my pregnancy insomnia is helping in this case.

“She’s . . . ok. She’s starting to open up about what it was like those weeks I was gone. She saw and heard a lot. Seems Linda was incoherent most of the time. People were coming and going all hours of the night, and they weren’t quiet about it. It scared her.”

I try to imagine what that would be like, and I can’t. Linda was letting the worst kinds of people into the apartment. By some miracle, I don’t think Bree was harmed.

“She keeps asking about her mom and what’s going to happen.”

“What’d you tell her?”

I push air between my lips. “The truth. I don’t know.”

It’s been two weeks. Two long weeks of complete mess, and my heart breaks for everything Bree is going through. It’s also been two long weeks of short, strained conversations with Mark.

I spent the first few days working with the social worker. During that time, Bree was placed in a home with a family. They seemed nice, but relief didn’t even describe what I felt when I got the call that I was assigned as her temporary guardian.

When I picked her up from school, she ran to me, burying her face in my side and letting loose the tears I have no doubt she’d been holding on to.

Now, we wait for Linda’s court appearance. Given her previous record and the fact she was not only found in possession but also dealing out of the apartment, she’s facing a long-term sentence.

Eight years ago, pursuing permanent guardianship may have been a challenge, but now that I’m married to a blood relative, it may be possible. I just need to get Mark to talk to me. I know there’s no way he’ll let Bree go anywhere other than with us if we have a say.

When I left him in Phoenix, Mark told me that he wasn’t going anywhere, but these past two weeks, it feels like he’s anywhere but with me. He met with the Kings and then Houston, but no official offers were made. I know that, but not much of anything else. He’s shut down completely.

I can’t even blame him. I know he’s hurting and is trying to sort through all of this. So, I’m trying to be patient, but selfishly I need him.

His consistent calls to check in are reassuring, but he’s short and guarded, and I’m beginning to worry that maybe we won’t be ok. I want him to remind me that we’re still in this together and know that when everything settles, we’ll be standing at the end of it.

I kick my legs out in front of me, peeking at my swollen ankles. “I told Bree we’d go get some of her things tomorrow. The landlord won’t hold it any longer.”

“You take Slade with you. Who knows who she’d been dealing with that’s watching that apartment.” I nod. He sighs, running a hand over his gray scruff. “Have you heard from Mark today?”

“Not today. He’s . . . ” I realize I don’t know what he’s doing.

“Give him time, but not too much. Letting him wallow in that shit won’t get him anywhere. It’ll feast on him, which is why you did all this to begin with. To protect him.”

“I can’t make him get over it. I hurt him, too,” I huff.

“Well, you aren’t doing yourself any favors by not knowing if he can forgive you.”

The truth is, I’m not sure I’m ready to know if he’s able to forgive me.

When I don’t say anything, I hear that whistle as he pushes out a breath through his nose. “You know, when your grandma left, I justwatched her go. Didn’t even say a word. I thought . . . if she wasn’t happy, well, I wasn’t going to stand in her way.”

He rubs his scratchy jaw. “I’ve had enough years to wonder what would’ve happened if I’d actually fought. If I’d asked her to stay. She might have still left, but I think sometimes the people we love need to know we think they’re worth fighting for, come hell or high water. Sometimes that means fighting with them, making them see that we actually give a shit if they stick around, or asking them to forgive us when we really need them to.”

I stare at him, trying to understand. All I’ve done is fight for Mark.

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