Page 16 of Everlasting Promises

Dragging Wyatt’s pillow into me, I trap it against my body, burying my face in the softness. Wyatt’s scent is long gone, but I feel closer to him, knowing he rested his head here. I ache for one more of his hugs, one more kiss, one more touch. To see his smile and share a laugh one more time. I would give up everything to have one more single moment. To make one more memory.

Maybe noteverything. I’d never give up Evan. Not for all the new memories in the world.

I don’t want to face today.

It’s supposed to get easier.

Scrunching my eyes closed, I let my tears fall freely as the ache in my chest expands; my body’s weighed down like an anchor is holding me out at sea in rough waters, and I’m too exhausted to fight against it. I’m battered—body and soul.

I’m so tired.

Exhausted to the very center of every cell in my body. I can’t remember the last time I felt anything but this soul-crushing pain.

I desperately need it to stop.

The bed dips behind me,and an arm slides around my waist. The corners of my mouth press upward, and I snuggle back. “Mmm, Wyatt,” I murmur.

I grip his hand and tangle our fingers which feel all wrong, then my eyes snap open, and my reality slaps me in the face.

“Sorry, babe. It’s just me,” Clara whispers, then kisses the back of my head.

I close my eyes, and a sob explodes past my lips. My body shudders, and my sorrow comes out in full force. Tears thatshould have dried up long ago stream down my face and my nose runs like a damn faucet. I release my grip on my best friend’s hand and wipe away the snot. Her hold tightens, providing me sanctuary as I fall apart. Her mouth presses against my hair, and her fingers gently slide over my tangled curls. Just when my cheeks become dry, a fresh wave of tears fall.

Peeling my gritty eyes open,I notice the brightness filtering around the edge of my curtains, stretch out my aching body, then flop to my back. Staring up at the ceiling, I try to pull my thoughts together. I can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to Evan to see me like this all the time. For the past six years, he’s never seen me truly happy.

What does that do to a kid?It can’t be good. Just look at what happened yesterday.

Disappointment washes through me like a tsunami; I’ve let our son down in the worst possible way and now he’s acting out. He lost his father, and I’ve been emotionally broken for so many of his formative years. I can’t even say I’ve done my best to get us through the loss of Wyatt, because I haven’t. Far from it. I’ve been so selfish in my grief.

I throw back the covers and climb out of bed with renewed determination to do better, then head straight to the shower. The warm water runs over me, and I dip my head back to wet my face and hair, letting it wash away my dried tears and pain. Taking my time, I wash my hair and body. I shave and scrub. I methodically cleanse myself from head to toe, like I can somehow wash away my mistakes and start fresh.

Today’s a new day. Why can’t I—we—start fresh?

I flip my hair over and condition it, working through my hair routine. When I step out of the shower, I feel better, and my determination to face the day is at the forefront of my mind. Laying one of Wyatt’s T-shirts on my bed, I plop my curly hair into it and wrap it, then get dressed and head out of my bedroom.

Low voices drift upstairs, so I follow them to the kitchen. As I get closer, I recognize Wyatt’s parents’ voices and Clara’s chuckle.I didn’t imagine her earlier.

Clara and I met in middle school and became inseparable. Then, I met her older brother and fell in love. She was over the moon when we got married; everything was perfect …until it wasn’t.

Stopping just out of sight, I watch Wyatt’s dad talk and laugh with Evan while my mother-in-law stirs something on the stove. Guilt wraps itself around me. Evan can laugh with him, but not with me, and I’m ashamed we never laugh like that.

I’m not surprised they’re here today. They probably knew I’d be a mess. I know they mean well, and they find comfort in spending time with their grandson—their last link to their son—but I think I would have preferred to be alone with Evan today.

My boy notices me first, and his posture stiffens as the smile drops from his face. He lowers his eyes to the counter as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t, and my heart stops beating. We’re in worse shape than I thought. I paste on a smile and step into the kitchen, heading straight for Evan. “Morning, everyone.” I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss the top of his head. “Morning, big guy.” I squeeze him extra tight and drop my mouth next to his ear. “I’m sorry.”

He turns his head and forces a smile my way. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but things are going to get better for us,” I whisper, then muss his hair and greet Wyatt’s parents with a hug and kiss.“Thanks for coming over. I’m sorry I slept in, but I’m sorta glad I did because this smells delicious.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Wyatt’s mom says as she mixes the scrambled eggs in the pan.

I kiss her cheek. “Not at all, Mom.”

Walking over to Clara, I wrap my arms around her, and we sway from side to side as I kiss her cheek. “Thanks, Clara.”

She winks at me. “You’re welcome. Come and sit while I make us all coffee.”

“Breakfast is almost ready. Evan, can you set the table, please?” Mom asks.

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