Page 25 of Love You Madly

In a way, her confession makes me think about my own situation with Adam. By the end, our sex life was non-existent, but unlike Taylor, I wanted it that way. His presence repulsed me. But it wasn’t about my insecurities—it was because of his betrayals, his selfishness. It’s not the same thing, I remind myself, pushing the fleeting sympathy for Adam out of my mind.

“Don’t feel bad for me, Callie,” Taylor says, her voice firm, but there’s a softness there too. “I hate that pity shit.”

Her words hit me hard, and I blink back the tears that threaten to fall. I’ve leaned on Taylor so much these past few months, probably more than she realizes. Her strength has kept me grounded. If she can survive everything she’s been through, maybe I can too.

twelve

BREAKEVEN - THE SCRIPT

OWEN - MAY 23, 2013

The week with Barrett flew by in a blur of laughter, activities, and stolen moments of joy. I had the week off from work, and I was determined to make the most of every second with him. We spent our mornings at the park, where Barrett’s little body zipped up and down the jungle gym, his dark hair flopping into his eyes as he climbed higher. His bright smile grew with every daring move, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

In the afternoons, we took bike rides down winding nature trails, exploring every twist and turn like adventurers on a quest. One day, we visited the zoo, where Barrett was mesmerized by the lions and practically dragged me back to the reptile house for a second round of snakes and lizards. Evenings were quieter—movie nights on the couch and LEGO towers that became more elaborate as the hours slipped by, the soft glow of the floor lamp casting warmth over our little sanctuary.

On Thursday, we visited Mom. She was thrilled, as always,to see us, but especially Barrett. Her living room, always smelling faintly of lavender, quickly became an impromptu art studio. Barrett busied himself with crayons, markers, and stacks of construction paper while Mom fussed over him, bringing out cookies and milk like it was her mission to spoil him rotten. By the end of the visit, he had a towering pile of colorful drawings.

"Daddy, can I take these home to Mommy?" Barrett asked, holding up one particularly bright piece—a family of dinosaurs, I think?

"Of course, buddy. I’m sure she’ll love them," I said, ruffling his hair.

Friday came too quickly, and it was time to take Barrett back to Sabrina’s. As we pulled into her driveway, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the pavement, I noticed a car I didn’t recognize parked out front. Must be Alex’s. Sabrina had mentioned introducing Barrett to Alex and had texted earlier to make sure I was still okay with it. I told her it was fine, but now, seeing the car, it hit differently.

Barrett, though, was buzzing with excitement, his drawings clutched tightly in his little hands. "Mommy’s gonna love these!" he exclaimed as we walked up to the door.

Sabrina answered almost immediately, her face lighting up as soon as she saw Barrett. She looked radiant—her chestnut hair falling in soft waves, her warm brown eyes sparkling with joy.

"Hey, little man! I’ve missed you!" she said, scooping him into a big hug.

"I missed you too, Mommy! Look, look at my drawings from Nana’s!" He thrust the papers toward her, beaming with pride.

Sabrina smiled, though I caught the brief look of confusion as she eyed the abstract art in her hands. "They’re wonderful,sweetie." She shot me a look that screamed, What on earth is this? I just chuckled under my breath.

“Why don’t you come inside?” she said, stepping aside. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

We walked into the living room where a tall, clean-cut guy stood up from the couch. He had sandy blond hair and an easy smile that seemed genuine enough.

"Barrett, this is Alex," Sabrina said gently. "Alex, this is my son, Barrett."

Alex crouched down, meeting Barrett at eye level. "Hi, Barrett. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you."

Barrett looked up at me, then back at Alex. "Hi. Do you want to see my drawings?"

This right here, I thought, was the test every single parent faces when they introduce someone new to their kid. Forget dinner dates—how someone reacts to your kid’s artwork is the real litmus test.

"I’d love to," Alex said, taking the drawings from Barrett and examining them with interest. "These are fantastic! You’re quite the artist."

Well, looks like he passed that test. Barrett beamed with pride before running off to hang the pictures on the fridge.

“Hey, Owen,” Alex said, standing to his full height and extending his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” I said, shaking his hand.

Barrett, still full of energy, ran back over, looking up at Alex with wide eyes. “Do you want to see my playroom too?”

"Sure thing, buddy. Lead the way," Alex replied, following Barrett toward the back of the house.

Sabrina and I lingered in the living room for a moment, the sunlight streaming through the windows, casting a golden glow on the hardwood floors. “Thanks for bringing him over,” she said softly. “Got any plans for the weekend?”

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