Gooseblew out a breath and tapped the table with his pointer finger. He was nervousand hesitant, but still, he continued. “I was in the hospital for a month afterthe attack. I don’t think there’s any way you can go through some shit likethat and not be triggered.”
“Didit bother you when you came to see me?”
“Yeah,”he answered honestly. “Only sometimes, though.”
Themoment felt strangely weighted and crucial. I knew that this conversation and thetruths we were sharing were impactful to our relationship, and it only made ourmeeting feel that much more serendipitous.
Goosetook in a deep breath and looked through the window as he said, “When I wasreally at the height of it, I wished I had someone who could really empathizewith me. Like, I didn’t need them to know exactly what I was going through, butjust someone who could put themselves in my shoes and get it. And now, I feellike I could be that person for you, and I’m just really hoping that’s enough.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
I wokeup by feeling my side of the bed being weighed down and I opened my eyes to abouquet of flowers and a smile from the man I loved.
“Hey,”I whispered, my throat raspy with sleep. “What time is it?”
“It’searly, like eight o’clock,” he answered. “But I woke up from some shit outside,and I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I went out to grab these.”
Heheld the flowers up and said, “Happy first Mother’s Day, Kenny.”
Isat up and accepted them, bringing their yellow and pink blooms to mynoseand tried to smile as I admired their beauty. But abouquet of pretty flowers couldn’t take away the fact that I was still withoutmy baby, the little person to give me reason to celebrate, and that left mewanting to spend the entire holiday in bed.
“Weshould go back to sleep,” I told him, fighting away the emotions that seemedtoconstantly be at the ready.
“Aren’tyour parents coming?” Goose asked.
“Yeah,but not until later,” I said, laying the bouquet on my nightstand. “And whenthey’re here, we can just order takeout.”
“What?”He laughed, kicking off his shoes and crawling back in, to lay beside me. “Imean, we can chill for now, but wegottago out andcelebrate.”
“OrI can just stay here and pump my boobs until they fall off.”
Henuzzled his chin against my shoulder. “Well, that doesn’t sound like a goodtime at all,” he muttered, before kissing beneath my ear. “It’ll be good foryou, to get dressed and do something.”
Isighed, turning my head, to stare out the window. “It just feels wrong to nothave Alex with me,” I whispered, my voice quivering.
“Iknow,” he said, wrapping his arm around me. “So, if youwannaspend the day with him at the hospital, that’s fine, too. Nobody would blameyou for that.”
“Iwannasee my mom, though,” I complained, feelingconflicted. “I just want us all to be in one place at a time, and we can’t be.”
“Nextyear.”
Inodded, cuddling the blanket to my chin. “Yeah. Next year,” I muttered, whilequestioning against my will if there even would be a next year.
***
Wewent to lunch at a quaint restaurant on the water. It was a little windier thanany of us would’ve liked, but other than that, the weather was beautiful. And Icouldn’t stop wishing that Alexwasthere, too.
“So,he’s doing great,” Dad confirmed with a grin.
Inodded, sipping slowly on a glass of Sprite. “Yeah, he’s doing really well withhis feedings. At this point, he’s entirely bottle fed, which is crazy,considering just a few weeks ago he wasn’t.”
“Theytold you it would happen quickly,” Mom reminded me gently, reaching out totouch my arm.
“Itdoesn’t feel like it,” I answered quietly, swirling my straw in the glass.
“He’llbe home before you know it,” Dad said, before digging into his lunch of shrimpand steak.
Ihated the way he and my mother kept saying things like that. They were wellmeaning, and I knew it, but they always used this carefree tone, like itshouldn’t be a big deal that I’d now been separated from my baby for two and ahalf months. I was living a double life, one that I spent inside a hospital andthe other where I was socializing, having lunch, and developing a relationshipwith thisreally greatguy I still couldn’t believewas mine. And I was sick of them treating it so nonchalantly.
