Page 16 of Mad Love

It just feels wrong. Not as wrong as Sasha not telling me about Caleb, but enough that I’d hate myself for it.

We drive into a neighborhood that’s older but well-kept. Sadie pulls into the parking lot of an apartment building and parks near the entrance. I park near her. Caleb is awake and I smile down at him. He stares at me intensely before smiling back and I laugh in surprise. Every single time I look at him, I get this weird ache in my chest.

“Hey there, little guy,” I say like a goofy fool.

Sadie bumps into me and we both turn to look at each other, too distracted by looking at the baby to care about anything else. Her smile is bright and pretty and for a tiny second, that shadow isn’t in her eyes. It quickly clouds over when she looks at me and motions for me to follow her.

Once we’re inside, we take the elevator to the third floor and she unlocks the door. She’s gotten increasingly anxious on the way up.

“It’s not much,” she says.

We walk into the apartment, and it’s simple but clean. The only clutter seems to be a few small baby things.

“It’s nice,” I say.

“Most of his stuff is back here.” She points behind her shoulder.

She walks down the hall and from what I can tell, there’s only one bedroom with a twin bed and a crib. There’s a changing table by the closet. Sadie opens the closet and it’s full of baby clothes and I’m assuming, Sasha’s wardrobe.

She flinches when she sees Sasha’s clothes but grabs a bag and puts Caleb’s outfits in there.

“What can I do to help?” I ask.

“Take one of these bags and get all the diapers it’ll hold. They’re right there.” She points to the little shelf by the changing table. “And lots of wipes. I can get his clothes and toys…and pictures.”

She pauses by the bed and picks up a picture. It’s of Sasha and Caleb. Her eyes fill with tears and she tucks the frame into the bag and keeps moving.

When she has everything she wants from the room, she hands me another bag.

“For his books and toys that are in the living room. I’ll get my things and then we can go.”

We walk back into the living room and she bends down at the small chest of drawers, pulling her clothes out and packing them. I notice the pillow and blanket folded up beside the couch.

“Is this where you sleep?” I ask.

She nods. Her eyes narrow on me and I try to school my sympathetic expression. Some couches aren’t the worst to sleep on, but this one looks lumpy and narrow.

“I have a few things to get from the bathroom.” She tilts her head toward the hall. “There’s a portable crib folded up in that closet.” She points to the door.

“Okay, I’ll grab it.”

She nods and rushes down the hall, and when she comes back a few minutes later, her eyes are red and swollen, and her cheeks are splotchy.

Fuck.

She grabs a few more frames and tucks them in her bag and sets all her bags by the door.

“I’m ready,” she says.

“I can take this stuff out and come back for the rest…if you want to make sure you have everything you want…” I watch as she swallows hard and nods.

“Thanks.”

I take as much as I can carry and load it into my SUV, and when I come back to the apartment, there are a few more bags in front of the door.

“I forgot about the food.” She’s in the kitchen and putting food in paper bags. “I don’t want it to go to waste.”

I stand in the doorway of the kitchen and see her wipe the tears from her face as she hurries to empty out the fridge.

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