Page 82 of Missing

“Beth,” Doug gently turned my face, forcing me to look him in the eye, “she had a history of mental illness, losing her husband and son sent her over the edge. That wouldn’t happen to you.” He paused. “It’d be hard, devastating, but you have so many people who love you and would support you through it. They’d never let you get to the point where you’d hurt someone else.” He addressed my unspoken fear; that I could end up so emotionally overwrought that I’d hurt someone else.

I couldn’t find the words to respond, so I nodded instead. Doug wiped the tears off my cheek with his thumb.He’s so gentle for someone so big.

Doug changed the subject to something less stressful and we talked for a few more minutes.

I decided tonight wasn’t the best night to have the talk with him. It was selfish, but I needed him. Having accepted reality, I forced myself to relax.

Our conversation was flowing, like it so often did between us, when I heard myself ask, “Do you want kids of your own someday?”

My breath caught in my throat—I’d just opened the can of worms I’d decided to keep closed, at least for tonight.

“I’ve always wanted kids, but-”

Chase’s high-pitched scream cut him off.

My heart pounded as I jumped up and ran upstairs to Chase’s room. “I’m here. It’s okay.” I whispered as I sat on his bed and pulled him into my arms. “Shh, it was just a bad dream, you’re okay.” I rubbed his back and smoothed his hair, knowing it had calmed him in the past.

“Mommy?” His voice sounded so small, it broke my heart all over again.

“I’m here.” I didn’t need to look to know Doug was standing in the doorway, offering his quiet support.I can feel his presence.

“You’re squishing me.” I heard what sounded suspiciously like a muffled chuckle from behind me as Chase wiggled out of my arms. The tension drained from my body; he was okay.

“Sorry.” I brushed a few strands of damp hair off his face. “You want to tell me about it?”

He shook his head back and forth. “I don’t remember.” He looked at me with his father’s big blue eyes and asked, “Can I have some chocolate milk?”

This time Doug’s chuckle wasn’t muffled.

“Mr. Doug!” Chase leaned forward and looked around me.

“Hey Little Man.” Doug waved but didn’t move from his position in the doorway. He cared about Chase, and wanted to be there for him, for both of us, but he never inserted himself into a situation without an invitation.

An invitation I’d been hesitant to offer, but Chase had no such problem. He’d been the one to invite Doug to dinner, and once it was asked, I couldn’t say no. Chase had loved every minute of it.I have a feeling it’s already too late to prevent Chase from getting hurt.

I let things go on too long.

When Chase asked Doug if he wanted to have chocolate milk with us, I laughed. I hadn’t said yes yet, but that didn’t seem to be an issue for Chase.

“If your mom says it’s okay.” He winked at Chase.

As soon as I said, “How can I say no.” Chase scrambled out of bed.

“But only a little, it’s late and I don’t want you up all night.”

As I watched Chase reach for Doug’s hand, three things flashed through my mind: there was no maybe about it, Chase was already attached to him, Doug would make a great father someday, and Doug saying he wants kids of his own.

Kids I can’t give him.

After everything Chase has been through, I’d have to tell him Mr. Doug wouldn’t be around anymore. There was no way he wouldn’t be sad.

I was distant, stuck in my head, while we drank our milk. I was sure he’d noticed, but would likely chalk it up to stress.

Doug said goodbye after we finished, leaving before I put Chase to bed. I wasn’t sure if he was coming back.Maybe It’s for the best.

After putting Chase back to bed, and reading him another bedtime story, I made myself a cup of tea and contemplated the last thing Doug said, “I’ve always wanted kids.” He might not think the age gap was a big deal now, but he would as time ticked on, and he realized he’d never have his own children if he stayed with me.

We need to break up.It’s the only option. I could probably live with the fear of losing him. After all I’d managed with Phil, but I couldn’t live with the guilt of knowing I’d deprived him of the family he wants. The sooner I dealt with it, the sooner we could all move on.

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