Page 31 of Dream with Me

Did I?

“Um...” I bite at my lip. “Not that I’m aware of, but it’s possible.”

“You totally did.” Tillie grins. Her eyes are bright with amusement. “What’s that about,tiger?”

“Jesus.” I glance around and see Ruthie watching us, clearly trying to hear what we’re saying. With a grip on her sleeve, I drag Tillie several feet away from prying ears. “My husband’s here.”

Tillie’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “As in the husband you’redivorcing?Which one?”

“Yep, that husband. He was the one who went inside. The one that the woman from the third floor was talking about. You probably didn’t see?—”

“Oh, I saw him. Damn, girl. He’s hot, so he must be a real asshole or a bore in the bedroom if you’re divorcing him.”

My shoulders droop. “Definitely not a bore in the bedroom. That was never a problem between us. He’s not an asshole, either. He’s a good guy.”

“Well then, what is it because I’m struggling to get it?”

I survey the scene around us. Too many ears listening. “Let’s do dinner or lunch, and I’ll tell you. I don’t want to do it here.”

Tillie opens her mouth to answer me, but we’re interrupted when Ruthie walks up. “Did you hear it was a toaster fire in the break room upstairs from us? Some smoke damage but nothing big.”

Well, that’s good news, at least. We stand outside, watching the building and waiting to see what happens next.

A few minutes later, Troy’s rookie walks out of the fire with Troy behind him. They both pull off their face masks and walk toward their colleagues.

I can’t stop looking at Troy. My eyes are glued on him when he stops several feet away from his team, and I can see his mouth moving and him gesturing to his rookie, who pays him intense attention. Troy turns and points something out on the building. I’m guessing he’s using this as a teaching moment. It reminds me of how he is with our kids, and a strange emotion swells in my chest.

After the all-clear is given, we’re herded back inside, and I’m bummed I didn’t get to say hello to Troy. When I’m only about ten feet from the entrance, I glance over my shoulder, and there he is. He stands a few feet from his peers, his hair a mess, holding his helmet in his hands and his gaze fixed on me. When his eyes meet mine, something in my stomach does a weird flip-flop, and a warm sensation fills my chest.

Before I know it, I raise my hand and give him a small wave and smile. I hope he can see in my expression that I’m happy he’s okay.

CHAPTER19

TROY

Shannon’s face is bright red, wisps of her hair falling out of her bun as she frantically sweeps into the room.

“I’m so, so, sorry. I’m not usually like this,” Shannon says. Like a whirlwind, she flies into her seat on the couch next to me, drops her bag on the floor, and leans forward with her hands clasped. Her gaze is laser-focused on Dr. Linden. “I’m here. I’m?—”

“Ms. Willson, it’s okay. Troy and I were going over Olivia’s evaluation, which was okay. She seems to be coping appropriately with the changes in the house.”

Shannon nods, and her shoulders relax. “Thank God. Also, please call me Shannon.”

Dr. Linden smiles politely at her, then removes her glasses and straightens her posture. “Before we go further, can you tell me a little bit about how you told the children you were divorcing? It sometimes helps give me some insight into what they might be feeling.”

My upper abdomen tightens as worry fills me about whether we did something wrong with how we told the kids. Is there even a good way to do it? It’s like a no-win situation. I glance over at Shannon to see if she is going to talk and find her looking at me, wide-eyed, and biting the inside of her cheek. It’s something she does when stressed. I guess I’ll take this one as she’s already had a rough afternoon with running late. She hates running late.

I turn toward Dr. Linden and clear my throat. “We, um, we asked Shannon’s sister, Shyley, and her husband—he’s my best friend, too—to take Chase for a few hours so we could be with the older kids. We weren’t sure how to do it, so we went out for pizza, and then when we got home,”—I pause and take a deep breath as I feel a lump growing in my throat and moisture welling up behind my eyes—"When we got home, we sat them down in the family room and told them.”

“Do you remember what you said, the words you might have used?” Dr. Linden’s voice is kind, without judgment, but overwhelming sadness fills me as I remember the looks on their faces when we told them.

I lean forward, rest my forearms on my knees, and hold my head in my hands as I stare at the floor. I need a minute to gather myself. I’m pretty sure I hear Shannon sniffle next to me, but I don’t look.

“We kept it simple. We said that we loved them more than anything in the world but that our love for each other had changed into a type of love that was different than moms and dads should have for each other.” Shannon’s voice is hushed, yet her words cause bitter frustration I’m not used to feeling toward her. It overcomes me, and I can’t stop myself before a huff escapes me.

From the corner of my eye, I see Shannon turn toward me, but I don’t move, my eyes glued to the floor.

“What?” she practically whispers.

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