Page 110 of Make It Without You

I get homefrom work exhausted. Being angry does me no good. Missing Emily does me no good either. But being angry has also kept the fight for my son alive.

I see Jenny on the couch with her Kindle in hand. “How was he?”

“Good,” she answers with a tight smile.

I fall on the far side of the couch with a bone-weary sigh.

Jenny stands up from the couch and heads toward the guest bedroom. “Adam?”

I turn my head towards her in a sign of acknowledgment.

“For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for the both of you.”

I let her words sit a little. Mason’s words from earlier come back. To hold onto the love that I have for Emily in hopes that we can be better than the before.

“Goodnight, Jenny,” I say after a few seconds from my spot on the couch.

“Night, Adam.”

Jenny retreats to the guest room and I bask in the silence of my house. I get up and wander over to the bar and pour myself a double shot of whiskey before heading out to the backyard. Every spot out here is tainted with Emily’s touch. In the few months we were together, we were wrapped up every chance we got.

Did we move too fast? Did I push her? No, that couldn’t have been the case. She was all in as much as I was.

Dylan starts school tomorrow. I can’t believe I’m about to have a second grader. I whip out my phone to text Emily but stop. She hasn’t reached out and I need to respect that. I knock back the rest of my drink and head to bed.

My alarm goesoff way too early. The pounding in my head from the whiskey does nothing to help either.

Throwing my feet over the side of the bed, I blindly walk to the bathroom to take care of business. I throw on a pair of jeans with a long-sleeved henley and push the sleeves up to my elbows. I’m walking downstairs to the tune of the morning news along with Dylan and Jenny talking animatedly.

“Morning, buddy. Excited for your first day?” I ask and kiss him on the top of the head before heading to pour myself a cup of coffee.

“Yeah. But what if I don’t know anyone in my class?”

I take a healthy sip of the strong bean water and sit next to Dylan. “I’m sure you’ll know plenty of kids in your class. Sandra said Jackson is supposed to be in your class.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dylan says like he forgot. Which, to be fair, he probably did forget.

“You’re good to take him to school?” Jenny asks while she puts her books in her backpack.

“Yeah, all good. Get to class.”

“Okay. Bye, Dylan. Have a great first day. I want to hear all about it when you get home.”

“Bye,” he says around a mouthful of cereal.

I look at my little boy who has no idea of the changes that have happened. He thinks Emily got another job because that’s what I told him when she stopped coming over. The lying hurts. The hurting hurts.

The time on the clock reveals it’s time to go. And I think I’m more nervous than Dylan.

“Time to go kiddo. Go get your shoes on,” I order as I put his bowl in the sink and pack up his lunchbox.

“Here’s your shoes, Daddy.” Dylan drops my boots with a thud by my barstool.

I smirk as I walk to them and slide them on. “Thanks, buddy.”

Three minutes later we are out of the house with the windows down and the music playing a radio classic. Dylan chitter-chatters over the music like he hasn’t spoken in a year in the backseat. I don’t respond because he’s always chattering away. We pull into the backed-up school drop-off line and my heart is in my throat. I have no clue if Emily does drop-offs because we never talked about that part of her life.

I’m an idiot.

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