Page 9 of Love You Madly

Green Flag #9.

“I love you, Callie,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. “And I’m going to prove it to you.”

Unable to speak, I nod, swallowing down the lump in my throat. Maybe there’s hope for us after all. Maybe this pregnancy will be different.

The next week is a blur of packing and planning. We sort through our belongings, deciding what to take and what to leave behind. Each item packed feels like a step towards something new.

He has been extremely sweet to me since he approached me about the house in Burlington last week. The landlord agreed to let us move things in over the weekend since our official lease date is on a Monday this year, and the prior tenants have already moved out. I can’t help but feel like it’s too good to be true. But there is another part of me that just cannot shake the thought if I don’t give him this last chance, I’m going to wonder what could have been.

As we load the last box into the truck, I take a look behind us at the house that built me. The good, the bad, and the downright ugly. I silently pray to a God I don’t believe in that this time really will be different. I will be different. Stronger, more vigilant. For my children’s sake, if not my own.

Thankfully, Mom has already let me know Sara, and I can come back if this doesn’t work out. I can tell she’s conflicted because she knows Adam hasn’t been a great husband to me, but she also doesn’t want to see me go through a divorce–Catholic guilt and all that.

Adam starts the engine, and we pull away, uncertain of theroad ahead. But for now, it’s a chance for something new. A chance to escape the shadows of our past and find a little light.

As we drive toward our new home, I can’t shake the feeling this move is just another one of Adam’s desperate attempts to fix something already broken beyond repair. I try to put the thoughts out of my mind and hold on to the sliver of hope maybe this time will be different. Because if it isn’t, I’m finally done playing this game.

We pull up to the new house just as the sun sets. It’s a charming little place with a wraparound porch. Just like he always promised me, we would have. The kind of house that promises a perfect life. Too bad that’s not what’s waiting inside.

Adam exits the truck, stretching and grinning like he’s just won the lottery. “What do you think, Callie? Isn’t it great?”

It brings back memories of when Adam dropped hints about liking me in high school. We listened to music, and the songPaint Me a Birminghamby Tracy Lawrence came on the radio. I told Adam I hoped to have a house like the one described in the song one day. He promised me I would. It feels strange to reflect on the dreams we used to share.

I force a smile. “Yeah, it’s something.”

We unload the boxes, each one feeling like it’s filled with more than just our belongings. By the time we’re done, I’m exhausted in every way possible.

Adam heads to the shower, and I’m left to unpack in peace. I search for suitable spots to showcase Sara’s baby pictures and contemplate reframing our wedding photo for the fireplace. Maybe this move could be a fresh start. But that hope feels fleeting.

four

SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOW - GOTYE FEAT. KIMBRA

OWEN - MARCH 21, 2013

Ilie awake, pushing thoughts of the past aside. They haunt me like ghosts, leaving me to wonder if I’ll ever break free from this endless cycle.

I remind myself I’ve come a long way since then. Yet, here I am, staring at the ceiling of my bedroom in my mostly empty apartment questioning everything that got me to this point. Why does it feel like I am as lost as ever? I sit up, rubbing my face, trying to shake off both the fragmented pieces of the dream and the memory of one of the hardest days of my life–the day I left Sabrina.

My body is drenched in sweat, and my heart’s still pounding, the image of Dream Girl’s eyes lingering in my mind. I glance at the clock on the nightstand: 6:15AM. It’s too early to be up on a Saturday, but I am certain that I won’t be able to fall back asleep. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand, stretching. The apartment is quiet, with only the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

I walk to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face, hoping it will somehow wash away the heaviness clinging to me. When I look up at the reflection in the mirror, he’s just as haunted as I feel—dark circles under my eyes, a weariness that no amount of sleep can fix.

With a sigh, I move to the kitchen to start the coffee maker. The familiar aroma of freshly ground beans fills the air, offering a small flicker of comfort, even if it’s only a temporary distraction from the storm raging inside me.

As I wait my thoughts drift back to Barrett. He’s the one constant in my life, the reason I push forward. His laughter, his innocence–it’s all been worth it, for him. I think about how he looked at me yesterday, his eyes wide with excitement as he showed me the drawing he made at preschool. His joy is a beacon of light in my otherwise dark and complicated world.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to center myself. The past haunts me, but I know I have to keep moving forward, for Barrett’s sake and mine. The dreams, the guilt, the longing–they are all part of my journey, but they don’t define me.

I pour myself a flavored cup of black coffee and take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through me. This particular blend was one I’d found at a grocery store here in Mount Vernon shortly after I moved into my place. I happened to grab it one morning from a display by the checkout line after forgetting to grab my usual Folgers Breakfast Blend from the shelf, not wanting to lose my spot in the line by going back through the store.

It turned out to be the best thing I could have done for my coffee taste because it was perfect. I haven’t bought Folgers since. Thankfully, the new stuff was kept stocked in a Farmer’s Market-style display at the grocery store.

I moved to Mount Vernon after a six-month stint at mydad’s place in Cedar Bluff. Things were tense with my step-mom, Bev, who was overbearing and kept giving unsolicited advice about my divorce and custody arrangement with Sabrina. Bev even insisted I should fight for full custody of Barrett, but I disagreed since I was working so much.

Around the time my divorce was finalized, I found out my mom needed a roommate after leaving her second husband. She had just gone into remission from breast cancer and was hoping to pay off her medical bills more quickly. Since killing my step-dad wasn’t an option, I opted to be my Mom’s roommate as a way to help her out instead.

Sabrina and I worked out a one week on, one week off arrangement for Barrett, and I agreed to handle pick-ups and drop-offs. My project in Iowa City was going to take at least a year, and Mount Vernon was closer. Mom worked part-time in Iowa City, so we commuted together, and the hospital had a great daycare for Barrett. The arrangement was perfect aside from the long drives to Cedar Bluff.

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