Page 74 of Twenty Years Later

***

I woke up in the morning on the couch again, my phone in my hand. Nothing. No calls. No texts.

What the heck?

Now, I was mad. How rude could a person be? How hard was it to send a text? I knew he was busy. He had work. He had a daughter, parents, a home... and an ex-wife in town. But still, it took all of five seconds to send me a text and tell me everything was okay. Five seconds. He couldn't sparefive seconds?

Audrey made noises upstairs, and I closed my eyes, breathing in a lungful of air. Forget him. Forget all men. I needed to be there for my daughter. Iwouldbe there for my daughter and this baby inside me. Stress wasn't good for him or her either.

I could do this.

I was strong. I was a survivor. Strength didn't mean I never cried, didn't mean I never fell apart. Strength was pulling myself back together, finding new life after death, finding my way forward through the ashes of destruction. I had done that—more than done that—before.

And I would do it again.

***

We spent the day with my parents, getting a head start on making Christmas cookies even though it was still so early in December. Silencing my phone, I stuck it in my back pocket. If he did call or text, well, he could wait. I needed some family time, and so did Audrey.

My heart broke a little at my mom's confusion a few times when measuring ingredients, mistaking tablespoons and teaspoons. It was something I was noticing more often with her. I had tried to talk to my dad about it. But he didn't want to even entertain the idea that anything could be wrong.

I hated even thinking about Alzheimer's or dementia. Maybe it was something else. Could there be something else? Perhaps it was part of the normal aging process, but I doubted that. I vowed to look into it when I got home.

Thiswas my priority, this family I had right here—my parents, my daughter, my unborn child. Not my love life. Or lack of it.

I had no business even going there. I needed to forget the heartache and go back to my original thoughts about that first weekend with Alex. It had been a one-night stand. Or one-weekend stand.

And this past weekend?

Well, I didn't know what to call it. But it needed to fall into the background of my life where I just forgot about it, if that was even possible. I would make it happen. Iwouldforget about it. It might take some time, but I would.

Hours later, Audrey and I returned home with tins full of cookies. Although my mom had a few hazy moments, she was still her generous and kind self, filling my arms with more cookies than I could carry. I thought she was making them for church friends. But she said she'd make more for them.

Even though I'd put on a smile and told them we'd had a great weekend, she must have known something was up. I supposed it was hard to hide some things from your mom... no matter how old you grew.

And still no word from Alex. Only a few texts from Kaileen asking me for the latest. I'd wait until later tonight to reply. I didn't want to even go down that road while I was with my daughter.

***

As soon as Audrey was asleep, I sprawled out on the couch, trying not to think about this past weekend when I'd shared so much with Alex in this very spot. I finally texted Kaileen and told her no word from him. I didn't even want to say his name.

We went back and forth for a while with her still reassuring me that something must have happened. I wanted to believe that, wanted to believe that with all my heart. But it was so difficult. Why couldn't he just call?

In addition to looking up stuff about my mom and coming up with a plan, I spent some time searching for death notices in Miami. Had something happened to him or one of his family members? Really, that was the only reasonable explanation I could think of, some kind of awful emergency.

Nine o'clock came and went. Nothing. Damn it. Nothing!

I couldn't believe it. Should I call him again? Oh, I didn't know. How desperate was I right now? I picked up the phone, then put it down again. Then picked it up. Then threw it down.

In the end, I sent a text... after typing and erasing it about fifty times. What did you say when you didn't hear from the father of your unborn child for two whole days after his ex showed up in town?

Finally, I decided to write, "Are you okay?" And that was it. I was done. This time, I meant it.

As I went into the kitchen, a numbness settled over me, a familiar feeling that I'd experienced all the time after Blake's death. In between the tears, the anger, the questions, and the guilt, numbness was my favorite because I just didn't feel anything, and it was such an actual relief to not have to deal with the more gut-wrenching emotions.

After I made some tea and grabbed a tin of cookies, I settled back on the couch, giving my phone one last glance. Nope. Nothing. The numbness deadened all the other feelings. And I embraced it.

Chapter Twenty-Six

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