Page 2 of Everything We Left Unsaid

Abby

My hands are shaking, my heart jackhammering against my ribs. Why is he here? After all this time, why did he choose to come back now?

I try to steady my fingers as I attempt to snap the infuriatingly complex buckles and tighten the straps on this car seat. I did my research looking for the safest one out there, and by God, there’s no way she’s getting out of this thing accidentally.

“Mama?” I look down into the curious eyes watching me with uncertainty. They remind me of him. The icy blue depths in which I once found myself lost. Every day they stare back at me from her sweet, cherubic face. It hurts knowing that she’ll never know him or know the love we shared. Well, the love I thought we shared. It still stings, the knowledge that his feelings weren’t as mutual as I once believed.

The tension begins to seep out of my tightly wound body when she smiles a toothy grin up at me. The pain of Jacob’s betrayal is overcome by the unconditional and incomparable love I have for her. I now know that I was just a temporary distraction for him, a summer fling. Our passion, although it wasn’t the love I thought it was, created something beautiful and precious. The moment she looked into my eyes, I knew I’d never love anything more the rest of my life.

I head towards home in a haze, questions about Jacob’s sudden reappearance rattling around in my head. Why? Why is he back? What does he hope to gain? Surely, he realizes I never want to see him again. Maybe it’s just a coincidence I ran into him and he’s only passing through.

Before I know it, I’m pulling into my driveway with no recollection of the drive home. I have to collect myself and focus on my daughter. She’s the most important person in my life and she deserves a mother who is present, one who isn’t distracted by anything else. I’ll never be like my mother. Nothing will ever come before my child. Nothing.

The front door opens as I’m pulling her from her seat.

“’Nisi, ‘Nisi!” she squeals excitedly. Her little legs, still wobbly in the gravel, carry her swiftly towards my grandmother.

“Chloe Bug, I have missed you.” She scoops my little girl up into her arms and cradles her close. Like always, they press their foreheads together and Chloe places a hand on each of my grandmother’s cheeks. Sweet, baby giggles fill the air as they rub their noses together.

“Lub oo, ‘Nisi,” Chloe croons.

“I love you, too, little one.”

My chest constricts almost painfully as I watch the interaction between the two most important people in my life.

I follow them into the house and set my things on the table, trying to keep my emotions at bay. If I’m not careful, she’ll know something is up. And as much as I’d like to just break down and let my grandmother comfort me, I’m not ready to deal with what I’m feeling. I’ve kept everything bottled up for so long – for Chloe’s sake, for my sake – that if I let it out now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to deal with all of it at once.

“Did you guys have a good time today?”

I keep my back to her, pretending to rifle through my bags as though I’m looking for something. “Yeah, it was great.” At least it was, up until the moment Jacob crashed my day off with my daughter.

“What did you do?” she inquires with genuine interest.

“Oh, this and that,” I reply with a shrug. “Found Chloe some new shoes and a jacket. Had lunch at Rosie’s.” My voice nearly cracks with that last part, but I manage to keep it steady.

“Abigail,” she says, her voice laced with worry. She senses something is amiss, but I still don’t face her. I can’t.

“Yeah?” I continue to reorganize the contents of my small purse, trying to ignore the heat of her gaze on my back and failing miserably.

“What’s wrong?”

I heave a deep breath and press my palms against the top of our kitchen table to steady them, hanging my head in defeat. “How did you know?”

“I know you, sweet girl.” I hear her footfalls as she approaches. “Your shoulders are so tense, I’m afraid your arms may snap off. And you’re fidgeting something awful.”

When she places her warm, comforting hand on my back, I crumble. I turn to her and let her enfold me in her soft embrace. “He’s back,” I croak out on a sob.

Her body stiffens and her hold tightens around me. “Who’s back, sweetie?”

“Jacob,” I croak. “I saw him at Rosie’s.” Her body and her grip relax slightly as she rubs my back soothingly.

“Did you speak with him?”

“Yes. And I-” I hesitate, not wanting to admit the next part, knowing she won’t approve of my behavior. “I slapped him.” I choke out the words, embarrassment flushing my cheeks. “Right in the middle of the restaurant. I just hauled off and slapped him.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Her tone is disappointed, but free of admonishment. She can sense my shame and avoids adding to it with her reproach.

“I never thought I’d see him again,” I sniffle.

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