It wasn’t drugs that had made me this way.
It was my broken heart, because I’d been foolish enough to fall in love.
I’d never make that mistake again.
I laid the towel aside and walked across the hall to the kids room.
I opened the door and they both barreled into my chest.
I wrapped my arms around them, holding on tightly, and wondering how someone couldn’t love their child.
I hadn’t believed it was possible to fall in love, but I had always loved my sister and son. It was a different kind of love than what I felt for Trenton, but nonetheless, it was love.
“What’s going on?” Tristan asked. “Tell me, Row!” He cried, tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping off his chin.
I took his small face between my hands. “Tristan,” I whispered his name, “mom’s dead.”
His little face crumpled and he squeezed his arms tightly around my neck. “Does this mean you’re our mommy now?” He asked, his tears soaking my shirt.
I kept quiet, because I didn’t know what to say.
“Can we sleep in your bed tonight, Row?” Ivy asked. “I don’t want to sleep by myself,” she whispered.
“Of course,” I replied, my eyes connecting with hers as I hugged Tristan.
They were both already in their pajamas so I fixed them in bed, and set about fixing them something to
eat. I wasn’t hungry after everything that had happened tonight, and they probably weren’t either, but I wanted them to at least try to eat.
I found some microwave chicken nuggets and the fries you bake in the oven. It would do in a pinch.
As the food cooked, I carried bottles of water back to my room.
I smiled when I saw Ivy speaking to Tristan, her arm draped protectively over his shoulder.
I wanted so desperately to tell Tristan that I was his mom, but I wasn’t sure that was the best thing. Would it be better to let him be older before I told him? Or was now okay? There wasn’t a proper procedure for this, and I felt so clueless. I wanted someone to tell me what to do. I was sick and tired of always being the person that had to figure things out.
Their food finished cooking and I fixed them plates. It smelled good, and I found my stomach rumbling, so what was left I put on a third plate for myself.
“We’re having a picnic in Row’s bed!” Tristan clapped his hands.
I laughed, shaking my head.
The horror of our mom having been dead in the living room had already left Tristan. The woman had been awful, and children processed things differently than adults.
I didn’t have a TV in my room, so the three of us sat lined up in my bed eating our food, and filling the silence with our chatter.
Since the ambulance and police officers left, a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t have to lie or worry about pissing off my mom anymore. I was beginning to feel the first inkling of freedom and I wanted to grasp onto it and never let it go. I wouldn’t be imprisoned any longer.
“What’s going to happen to us, Row?” Ivy whispered once the lights were off and we’d laid down to go to sleep. “Are they going to take us away from you?”
I reached over Tristan’s body, since he was snuggled between us, and grasped Ivy’s hand. “I will never let anyone take you guys from me,” I spoke fiercely. “I promise.”
“I love you,” she sniffled, and I knew she was crying.
“I love you too.”
chapter nineteen