Page 149 of When It's Us
Tell me about it, kid. Especially when the place you’re looking in is the last place you want to be.
“Mom, why can’t we go back to Timber Forge?” Tate asks without looking up from the game on his iPad that Paige got him interested in.
“Yeah, why can’t we?” Jordan asks, looking over at me expectantly, making me freeze.
My twins carry on talking like they didn’t drop a bomb on me.
“We have family there, like, way more than we have here with Dad,” Tate murmurs, his gaze still fixed on his iPad. “And all he does is work, work, work.”
My stomach twists. I hadn’t expected my boys to look at the move through the lens of what they’d get, rather than what they’d leave behind. But there they were, asking me like it was the simplest thing in the world. As though I could snap my fingers and make it happen.
And I mean, in reality, I guess I could. But even still, I can feel the weight of the decision in my chest. And not just that, but also the weight of what I envisioned for the rest of my life and how I couldn’t quite make it match up with the reality. I felt helpless to create it.
I couldn’t explain it to them without feeling like I was letting them down. Letting Peter down. And ultimately letting myself down. I think that hurts the most. And that makes me feel so fucking selfish. Life isn’t just about me. It was about my boys, and their relationship with their dad.
It’s about what they need, but why couldn’t it also be a little bit about what they want, too? WhatIwant. I hate the feeling of inadequacy it stirs in me. I wish I could give it all to them.
“We can’t, guys,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “I know it’s hard to make a change, but we have to do what’s best for us. We’ll go back to visit Timber Forge, but we still need to be here for your dad, too.”
Tate’s face falls, and I know he doesn’t quite understand. The boys are still too young to understand all the pieces that are at play. They only knew they liked the idea of having Hutch’s big, loud family around. Paige was so good with them; treated them like her very own brothers. I wanted that so much for them; a life surrounded by aunts, uncles, and honorary grandparents that spoiled them rotten. But that’s not how it had worked out.
Sure, part of me had wanted to believe that maybe we could have made Timber Forge work, despite how Hutch and I had left things. But there was no way I could live in the same small town as the man I loved, seeing him, knowing he was only miles away knowing that he didn’t think he was enough. Thatweweren’t enough. I’d never stop looking for him, never stop wondering the next time our paths would cross. I couldn’t do that.
“If we can’t go to Timber Forge, let’s stay in California. Seattle is dumb,” Jordan says. “Can’t even go to the park because the rain is dumb, too.”
And the truth was, I couldn’t ignore their opinion completely. Seattle felt wrong for all three of us. And this was my decision, and it wouldn’t be easy for any of us. Not for me. Not for the boys.
I step away from the window and turn back to the bed, the rental brochures spread across it. I’d thought about this for months, and I tried to imagine our life if I had caved and followed Peter. But I couldn’t picture it. Not with him and this new family he was building. I wasn’t bitter; I was happy for him, but I needed to make my own decision, to take control of something for once. And as much as I loved the boys and wanted to do right by them, I wasn’t sure Seattle was the answer anymore. I don’t think it ever was.
And it’s in that moment I decide I can’t do it. I don’t know what this means for us in California, but I know Seattle isn’t the answer.
I knew the conversation with Peter was inevitable, and I couldn’t put it off any longer. The boys and I were headed back to California tomorrow, and I needed to tell Peter we weren’t moving to Seattle. We’d been dancing around it for weeks—him pushing for me to bring the boys out for a weekend, me pushing back, using the soon-to-start school year as an excuse.
I wasn’t surprised to find Peter’s car missing from the driveway of the house he and Meghan owned together. I parked out front, dreading spending the next hour or so until he got home from work making small talk with my ex-husband's new wife.
Meghan was nice enough, but she was young, and we didn’t have much in common. We get along simply because it’s what grownups do, but I didn’t think she would be overly disappointed in the news I had come to share. I know she cares about Tate and Jordan, but they’re not hers.
I kill the ignition and step out of the car, then rush up the walkway and under the shelter of the porch overhang. I’d practiced what I would say the entire way here, and I could almost hear Peter’s voice in my head, asking me about the apartments, if I could see us moving there, all the while knowing the answer wouldn’t be the one he wanted.
An hour later Peter is home, Meghan has invited me to stay for dinner and after we’ve eaten the boys settle into a movie with Meghan and her boys.
Luckily, I didn’t have to wait too long to talk to Peter because it was only a few minutes of hanging out with the boys in the living room before Peter came in.
“Can we talk?” I ask Peter as he stands in the doorway.
“Sure,” he says, tipping his head down the hallway in the direction of his office.
Once inside, Peter closes the door behind him and sits on the couch, taking the opposite end from me.
“I can’t move to Seattle,” I blurt, my heart pounding. “It doesn’t feel right.”
From the look on his face, I can tell he doesn’t get it. How could he? Seattle’s the logical choice, but it isn’t the right one.
Peter nodded. “I’d figured this was coming.” He isn’t angry but watches me in thoughtful silence for a beat.
It takes everything in me not to fill that space with explanations and apologies.
Thanks, Mom.
