smile.
“I’ll call the first chance I get, K?”
I nodded. “Just come home.”
He took my shoulders and bent down so we were eye-to-eye. “I will.”
In hindsight, I should have said something like come home with Lucas, come home as a whole person.
I didn’t.
Ryker’s dad gave Lucas a hug; Lucas’s dad did the same for Ryker.
“You boys take care of each other, you hear me?” Bill spoke sternly.
“Yes sir,” they half-chuckled in unison.
And that was it. I don’t remember anything else about the final seconds. All I know is I made it to my car and exactly halfway back to my dorm before pulling over and screaming and crying into my steering wheel.
* * *
I pull my head from a different steering wheel when I hear Eric’s voice.
“Natalie,” he speaks through the half-opened window.
A quick glance at the clock tells me I’m going to be late.
He leans down. “I’m sorry about what happened with Dan—”
“Fuck off, Eric. I have to go get the boys.”
Chapter 7
I managed to get to the boys’ school five minutes before pick up, so I had time to practice slow breathing and get the splotchiness out of my face before walking into the building. Eric has texted me about ten times, going on about how sorry he is at how he treated Danielle, mixed with his anger at my lack of respect for him in front of a student.
That girl wasn’t just a student. Dammit. Thinking about her causes me to wipe my eyes again while the boys chase each other at the playground. The pride she had when telling me her boyfriend is a Marine, steeped in her conspicuous fear, was heartbreaking. I know exactly how she’s feeling right this very second and there’s absolutely nothing I—or anyone else—can do for her.
Stop thinking about this, Nat . . .
Eric’s texts finally stop around dinner. I haven’t responded to a single one, and keep myself busy making forts and laughing with my boys. After dinner and bath, it’s time for bed. Max, named after Eric’s grandfather, picks out a Batman book.
Oliver, named after—you guessed it—my grandfather, joins in, “Mommy, when I get bigger I can be a superhero.”
“Absolutely,” I say, closing the book. “You can be a police officer, or a firefighter—”
“Or an Army guy!” Max cheers.
“Yeah, an Army guy!” Ollie agrees with a yawn.
“Mhmm,” I divert the topic, “or a doctor, they’re superheroes too, you know.”
“I want to be an Army guy.” Max yawns. Ollie’s already asleep.
“They’re called soldiers. Night, Baby.” I tuck them in and kiss their cheeks.
“I love superheroes,” Max says as he drifts to sleep.
“Me, too,” I whisper, kissing his cheek once more.
I close their door tightly behind me and take a deep breath with my hand still on the handle, trying not to put too much weight into the words of carefree four-year-olds.
As soon as I walk into the kitchen, Eric comes through the door.
Can I catch a damn break today?
I only look at him from the corner of my eye before turning my back, reaching for one wine glass and pouring myself a slightly too-full glass.
“Please be quiet, they just fell asleep.”
“Natalie, I understand that you’re upset—”
“Clearly you don’t, or you’d leave me the hell alone.” I gulp the wine three times, causing my eyes to water. “You were an absolute prick to that poor girl today, Eric, and it was totally uncalled for.” I toss the wineglass into the sink. It shatters, and I don’t care as I turn for the hallway.
“Hey!” He lunges for me and grabs my arm, spinning me around. “You disrespected me in my office in front of one of my students, and you’re mad at me?” When he’s mad, really mad, a vein pulses down the center of his forehead.
“The girl was a mess and you were a total pompous ass.”
“Students come to us all the time with stuff, Natalie. Only so many grandparents and aunts can die before you become a cynic.”
I try to tug my arm away, but he grips harder. “Did you not see the horror on her face? What the hell is wrong with you? She was as scared as she’s ever been in her whole life, and you didn’t even look at her; you couldn’t be bothered to address her.” As the tears fall, it hits him.
“She’s not you, Nat.” His tone is somewhere between condescending and remorseful.
“That’s what you don’t get. She is me—they’re all me—and to talk to her about her responsibilities—”
“Is this all because you went to that