year, if I remember correctly. Look,” I run a hand through my hair and walk past him, “the party is winding down outside . . . I’m going to get the boys and go home.”
As I set my hand on the door, he speaks in an almost-whisper. “I loved you, Natalie.”
“I know,” I sigh, “I loved you, too. But, I can’t live in past tense anymore, Eric.”
Chapter 41
A few days later, I’ve got the boys set up with our nanny, Caroline. As I’m getting ready to leave for therapy, there’s a knock at the door. Opening it, I find a man standing there, holding three tulips—my favorite flower—and a package with a card taped to it. After setting the flowers by the window, I take the card and package to the car, not wanting to be late for Dr. Greene.
I recognize the writing on the card immediately. Hundreds of letters from Afghanistan made me a Ryker Manning handwriting expert. With shaky fingers, I slide the envelope open.
Natalie,
I remember you told me Max and Oliver’s birthday was coming up, but I don’t think you told me when. The flowers are for you, because you’re a great mother. I hope they’re still your favorite. The book is for them. I guess it’s the best way to try to make sense of it all . . . I hope they have, or had, a good birthday.
~Ry
My car feels too small as I tear open the wrapping and find “The Little Chapel That Stood,” a children’s book about 9/11, and the chapel 100 yards from the Twin Towers that managed to survive the chaos. It became a safe haven for many EMTs, firefighters, and policemen. I flip through the book and can’t get past the fifth page without succumbing to the heavy emotion that brings me back to that day.
The book highlights all the heroes born that day, and illustrates that from evil can come great good. Flipping back to the beginning, I see that Ryker put a note inside the front cover.
Max and Oliver,
Heroes don’t always wear capes, badges, or uniforms. Sometimes, they support those who do.
Setting the book on the passenger seat, I drive to Dr. Greene’s office in a hurry.
“That was quite thoughtful of him,” she says as I show her the card and the book.
“It was. He is.” I’m still wiping tears from under my eyes.
“He called you a hero to your boys but left space for you to explain it to them. How do you feel about that?”
“Overwhelmed. I don’t feel like a hero, at all.”
“What kind of relationship do you want to have with Ryker, Natalie? You’ve spent a fair bit of time with him, and he sent you flowers and your boys a present . . .”
“I actually haven’t thought much about it. It was just such a shock to have him in my life again. I was taking it one day at a time. I tried to prepare myself for the fact that one or both of us would find it too intense to be around each other.”
She crosses her legs. “And, have you found it too intense?”
I shake my head. “It’s been intense, for sure. But . . . not too intense . . .” I look to the ground.
“What is it, Natalie?”
“I really do still love him, Dr. Greene. For the longest time I’ve tried to tell myself that our crazy, mad love story was a product of the drama of war and being in college, but—”
“But what?”
“It was real. True.” I grab a fresh tissue. “Either way, I don’t want him to disappear again. I’m not saying I want to be with him, or anything . . . I just don’t want to say goodbye again.” Even saying “goodbye” in a sentence involving Ryker tugs at my insides.
Dr. Greene nods, licking her lips. “I think your honesty about your feelings is an excellent step, Natalie. I’d say how you’re handling it so far is working, wouldn’t you?”
I nod.
“How was the boys’ birthday?” She changes course, and I’m thankful for the relative break.
I quickly recount the events of the day to Dr. Greene, who nods along like she belongs on a car dashboard.
“Do you think your mother’s apology was sincere?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. She’s never apologized for anything before. I guess it doesn’t really matter if she’s actually sorry, though, does it? That’s kind of on her at this point.”
Dr. Greene smiles. “That’s very good, Natalie, and you’re right. But you know she