Page 70 of Love You Madly

It’s not the first time he’s dodged my questions, and now my patience is wearing thin. I don’t push it, but that nagging feeling is back, stronger this time. He gets dressed, mumbles something about needing to go, and leaves.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling more alone than ever. He bailed and I’m not getting any answers tonight.

Red Flag #3.

Two days later, the truth unravels. His phone buzzes incessantly as we try to pick out a movie. I glance over at him, watching him silence the calls over and over, his face tight with guilt.

“Matt, who’s calling you?” I finally ask, unable to take the tension any longer.

He sighs, his face pale. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Red Flag #4.

And then it all comes spilling out. Not only does he have a girlfriend, but she’s not just any girlfriend—she’s his fiancée. And she’s moving back to town soon, expecting to move in with him.

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. How could I have been so blind?

“I’ll make this simple for you, Matt,” I say, my voice colder than I feel. “We’re done. I’m not going to be anyone’s side piece. Get the hell out of my life.”

His eyes widen, but I don’t wait for him to respond. I get dressed, grab my keys, and leave without looking back.

As I sit on my back porch, watching Sara play with her toys, a sense of calm washes over me. The sun is setting, casting a soft glow over the yard. I may not have all the answers, but I know one thing for sure—I’m done letting men treat me like I’m disposable. No more distractions, no more heartache. I’m stronger than this, and I deserve better.

part two

twenty-eight

AIN'T NO REST FOR THE WICKED - CAGE THE ELEPHANT

OWEN - JULY 4, 2013

In the days that follow the camping trip, things with Karissa seem to settle into a pleasant rhythm. The tension from the camping trip dissolves, replaced by a sense of normalcy that’s almost unsettling in its simplicity. We have had no issues since then, and she’s been a lot more laid-back, the initial spark I saw with her slowly returning. But we have spent little time together, either.

I’ve been stretched pretty thin between spending time with Barrett and work, so we’ve had trouble getting our schedules aligned. Karissa has been working some odd shifts here and there for extra cash too and I can’t say I blame her, especially since it sounds like her ex doesn’t help with her kids. Most of our communication since the camping trip has been through texts and the occasional lunch date in the hospital cafeteria. She wanted to spend today together, but I’d already made plans with Barrett and I am not comfortable introducing themyet. I don’t think that sat well with her, and I should probably be thinking about how to make it up to her.

The sun is just beginning to dip below the horizon as I buckle Barrett into his car seat. He’s clutching his new stuffed dinosaur, a bright green T-Rex he’s dubbed “Mr. Chompers,” like it’s his lifeline, his little legs swinging with excitement. Barrett grins and makes sure Mr. Chompers is safely buckled in too, because apparently, that’s going to be what keeps him from going extinct according to my three-year-old son.

Satisfied, Barrett goes back to making Mr. Chompers roar in a way that’s more cute than terrifying. I climb into the driver’s seat, mentally ticking off a checklist: Blanket? Check. Snacks? Check. Backpack with spare clothes and enough toy cars to start a dealership? Check. We’re all set.

As I pull out of the parking lot of my apartment building, Barrett starts narrating an epic adventure involving Mr. Chompers battling other dinosaurs, saving the world from meteors, and possibly getting lemon ice cream afterwards. I can’t help but laugh at some of the plot twists that his mind has come up with as I listen to him while we head toward Cedar Bluff.

“Daddy, Mr. Chompers says we need to go faster so we don’t miss the fireworks!”

I glance back at him in the rearview mirror, his eyes wide with innocent urgency. “Well, you tell Mr. Chompers that I have a squeaky clean driving record and we’re already going as fast as we can. Don’t want to get pulled over by the police, do we?”

Barrett gasps dramatically. “No! Mr. Chompers doesn’t want to go to jail!”

I bite back a laugh. “Good, because I don’t think they allow dinosaurs in jail anyway.” Barrett giggles, then turns serious as he directs Mr. Chompers to keep an eye out for cops.

We hit a bit of holiday traffic as we get closer to CedarBluff, and I can feel Barrett’s patience deteriorating. He starts to ask the predictable, “Are we there yet?” on repeat, and after the fifth time, I tell him, “We’ll go faster if Mr. Chompers takes a nap.”

Barrett frowns, holding Mr. Chompers up at eye level as if considering this very serious suggestion. “Mr. Chompers says he’s not tired.”

“Well, maybe he could just close his eyes for a little bit,” I suggest, trying to keep a straight face.

Barrett thinks about this for a second, then nods. “Okay, but only for a little bit. Mr. Chompers wants to see the fireworks too.”

Barrett fills the rest of the drive making fake snoring noises for Mr. Chompers, which has me bursting with laughter. By the time we roll into Cedar Bluff, the sun has dipped low, casting a warm, golden glow over the town. The park is filling up with people who are preparing for a fun evening with blankets, lawn chairs, and kids playing with sparklers.

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