As soon as the elevator door closes, I run to the emergency exit and deadbolt it. I will call a locksmith tomorrow and have it all locked up securely. He will not get in here again. Then I am booking a flight to somewhere. Maybe Europe. England. Yes, I will take the babies to see where their father grew up.
But Chance can’t fly. It hurts his ears.
Then I will take a boat.
Fucking Titanic. I hate that movie. I can’t take a damn boat.
I am living in hell. I am living in hell, trying to protect two angels.
I hate him. I hate him so much that I said vile things to hurt him.
I thought I loved him once, and tonight, what was he doing, pouring his heart out to me to get laid? Who the hell does he think he is? Who!
“I need you, T. I need you so fucking bad,” I pray to the only god I know. “Everyone is out to take them away from me, and no one, not one person, understands. You do, though. You do, Thomas, and...” I stop because, in my fear, I am getting angry at him, and being angry at him leads to nothing but hurt in my heart. He did everything to love and protect me. I would do the same for my kids.
Figure out what he wants, Ava—what he will settle for—and give it to him. Then he will go away. He always does.
Casey is on a much needed vacation, and I fired the help Mom hired, not wanting anyone taking care of what’s mine. Now, though, I feel like maybe Luke will stay away if other people were around.
I am exhausted, so tired, but I can’t sleep. However, if I don’t sleep, I won’t be able to show Luke that I can do this.
Fucking exhausting. All these people are exhausting.
Why do they do this to me? Why does everyone hate me so much that they try to make me feel like I have to take care of them; worry about their feelings getting hurt?
Thanksgiving, Dad was so pissed at me. He was so damn pissed that he gave Tessa the phone.
Tessa. Would she help me? She knows what it’s like to lose someone and want to run away. Hell, she did run away. She didn’t have anything to hide, though.
Hope starts to stir, and I take a few breaths, trying to calm myself before getting up to feed her, when the oven timer goes off.
Dammit!
I run out and turn it off. Then I open the oven door so the pizza doesn’t burn before running back, grabbing Hope from her crib, and bringing her into my room to feed her.
She’s still half-asleep, her eyes fluttering like she’s trying to wake up to tell me something. As soon as she starts to get milk, though, she’s out. My beautiful girl is peacefully finding rest.
Chance doesn’t wake up, but I know that he needs to eat, even if he doesn’t know it.
I hold him a little tighter, a little closer, and I look at him as tears fall down my face. If Luke finds out and decides he wants to be part of his life after all these months, then I will miss so much of his life. I will miss his smiles, his coos, his little talks where I have no idea what he is trying to say to me, but I know he’s saying something important. He’s my thinker, my talker, my little man. Mine, not Luke’s.
I look over at Hope asleep in her crib. She is so blissfully peaceful. She’s the dreamer, so happy all the time. The only time she gets upset is if she has a dirty diaper. Our little princess doesn’t like to be dirty.
Dirty.
I didn’t shower for three days because I have been too busy, and it isn’t like I plan on going anywhere. No, it’s not like me, but I didn’t want laundry piled up, or dirty bottles, even though I don’t use many since they breastfeed ninety percent of the time.
Then he showed up and threw me in the shower. And now he thinks I can’t take care of myself, and if I can’t take care of myself, I bet he thinks I am neglectful to the babies. I am anything but! They are my everything, and each other’s everything.
I have to make this work to their benefit. I don’t owe him a damn thing, and I won’t ask him for anything but to be left alone.