Page 67 of Sex. Love. Marriage.

I close the Journal, holding it to my chest, my memories of her so vivid and I sob, Noah beside me in our bed, his back to me. I don’t know if he’s sleeping, or if he hears my cries for comfort, but just like the night she left us, he ignores me, and I’m trapped in his suffocating silence. I remember the moments following Mara’s last breath, the way Noah stared at the wall, like now. We walked so blindly through the days following her death, swallowed by anger and resentment that she was gone, that we couldn’t talk to one another and even now, it’s impossible.

My eyes burn in the dryness of the air in the room, so I turn the ceiling fan off. I lie back, my eyes on the fan. I watch it circle slowly, each pass slower than the next until it slowly stops and silence follows.

I was right.

While her puzzle was completed that day, ours is forever missing the final piece.

(The hypocritical passive-aggressive overbearing type.)

THE DAYS FOLLOWINGNoah quitting his job fly by. After the BB incident, we didn’t go to dinner. Instead, Noah said he wasn’t in the mood and went to bed. A week later, we’ve barely seen one another now that Jason set him up with that shop and a place to work out of. He’s working fourteen-hour days now and is slammed with new clients.

It reminds me of the months following Mara’s death. He did everything possible not to be at the house and absolutely refused to step foot in her room. While he distanced himself from every memory, I used to sleep in Mara’s bed with Finley after she was born because I wanted her to feel closer to the sister she would never meet.

“Where’s Daddy today?” Hazel asks, slurping on her smoothie as we make our way back to the house.

After glancing at Kate beside me, I look in the rearview mirror. “At work, honey. He’ll be home later.”

“But I didn’t get to see him last night. He won’t miss my play, will he?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble, knowing Hazel can’t hear me but Kate can.

Kate whispers, “Ishe going to make it?”

“He’d better or I’m going to drag his ass from the shop,” I tell her, pulling out of the parking lot of the grocery store.

By the time Noah got home last night, we were all in bed. I woke up around three in the morning because Fin was crying only to find him holding her in the chair downstairs with the humidifier blowing on them. She was fast asleep on his chest and he had his eyes closed, singing to her. She’s been sick with a cold the last couple days and barely slept. My heart lurched at the scene before me. It reminded me of times when Mara was going through chemo and vomiting for hours at a time, all while either Noah or I held her.

Finley never lets Noah hold her, so I snuck back upstairs and let them have their moment together, relieved to know they were finally connecting on some level. Either that or Fin was so tired she couldn’t decipher if it was me or Noah.

I wish he was home more so we could have more moments like that, but I fear this new job is going to be his new distraction away from home. A way to not have the reminder that we’re here.

And, since the time in the haunted house, we haven’t had sex. What the fuck? I don’t get it. We’re back to square one all over those damn BB’s in Hazel’s stomach. I’m happy to report, she pooped them out, wanted to keep them, and then finally flushed them down the toilet.

To top all this off, my sister is getting married. We have to go back to Texas for the wedding in two weeks. I can only imagine what being back in Texas is going to do to Noah and me.

It’s a Saturday night. As luck would have it, Noah snuck out to the shop and we’re set to have our friends over for dinner tonight after Hazel’s school play. Maybe even get Noah drunk to the point he relaxes.

“What time is the play?” Kate asks, her attention on her phone as she’s texting Jason.

“It’s at four.”

“Who’s that?” Kate asks, staring at my front porch when we pull into the driveway. To my surprise, my mother is sitting on my doorstep when I get back from the grocery store.

Oh, fuck.

“It’s Nana Nina!” Hazel and Oliver yell, barreling out of the car the moment I stop. Sevi, he couldn’t care less and Fin, well, you know. She only likes me. Because I feed her.

Before you meet her, I need to let you know she comes with a warning label. I love my mother, I do, but I can’t say I like her. I also don’t like when she shows up unannounced at my house.

With my kids wrapped around her legs, I stare at her emotionless eyes that mirror my own. I may have her looks, but I hope, no, I pray I don’t have her personality and treat my children this way when they grow up. “What are you doing here?”

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she hands the kids a stack of presents. She does this every time she sees them. Buys them gifts to make up for the fact that they haven’t seen her in a year. Yes, an entire year and we lived in the same city as her up until a month ago. The last time I saw her was after Mara’s funeral. I sat there holding my newborn baby and grieving the one I lost, and my mom had the nerve to tell me, “You have your children to think of. Stop crying.”

Kate scoots past me with her boys and inside the house, taking the bags of groceries from me. “I’ll put these in the fridge.”

Mom watches Kate and doesn’t meet my questioning stare. “Do I need an excuse to come see my daughter and grandbabies?”

I sigh. “I suppose not, but look, you haven’t seen this one since she was born.”

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