“That means a little bit, yes,” he translates.
I nod, because that’s exactly what that means. “I only care that people say dumb shit, and I know you’re sensitive about it. I also know that if we stayed in Harriston, our kids would have to hear the whole drama about how we got together, and I’d rather we were the ones to tell them when we’re ready.”
He breathes in slowly through his nose and holds his breath. “People are going to find out. They always do, and when they do, they’re going to say dumb shit to our kids. That’s inevitable. For fuck’s sake Parker’s older brother is your ex-husband.”
I know that the correct response to this statement isn’t laughter, but I can’t fight how this hits me. I double over with uncontrollable giggles.
Griff rolls his eyes, but can’t hide his smirk. “You’re ridiculous.”
I point my index finger against my chest. “Me? Griff, we’re all ridiculous. I started calling youDaddybecause you were my father-in-law as a joke. You went to school with my parents. Your best friend is married to my aunt. That means I’m my ex-husband’s stepmom, and you are your best friend’s nephew. I can’t say that we can blame people for talking about us when or if they do. It is pretty fucking hilarious when we stop taking ourselves so seriously.”
“So if that isn’t what was bothering you, what was?” There’s a deep groove between his eyes now that he’s questioning what made me so quiet earlier.
“My first thought after hearing that we’re having twins was that I wanted to talk to my mom. I thought there weren’t any more big things that would happen to me that I’d want to turn to my parents for. Then Dr. Carter said she worked with my dad, and I felt a little like they were telling me that they’re still here, in a way, at least. I feel silly, but I want my mom to run her hands through my hair and tell me that everything will be okay. I guess,though, that ever since the night that I lost them, I have a hard time believing that things will work out.”
“Did you get therapy when you lost them?” he asks me.
I give him a look that questions his intelligence. “Did Liam tell you nothing, or did you choose to ignore everything about me from back then?”
He gives me a puzzled look. “My son isn’t a very deep well, Baby Bird, and I didn’t have those thoughts about you when you were in high school. I didn’t see you that way until after your twentieth birthday, actually. Liam never really told me much about you other than you existed.”
That deflates my hormonally fueled anger pretty quickly. We’d talked about when he started to see me differently, of course, not in depth, but enough so that I knew that I hadn’t done anything wrong to make him act like he hated me. Despite where we’ve ended up, I think there’s still a part of him that feels guilty for loving me. That, however, is a whole other can of worms to discuss with a therapist.
“I spoke to the school counselor for a little while. There was so much to take care of that I didn’t really focus on myself then. I was more about going through the motions of taking care of their funerals, figuring out that I couldn’t keep the house, and trying to function alone. There was no one around to make sure I did the things I needed to do to make sure I was a functioning human being after everything was done.”
“There’s no time limit on grief. I think it would be a good idea for you to talk to someone,” he says.
“I think you’re probably right. It certainly would have saved me from being a divorcée at twenty-three,” I say mostly to myself.
“Say that again,” he says in a very serious sounding tone.
I squirm in my seat. “I’m not sure if this is something we should talk about.”
He nods and turns to look out the window. This is one of those things that makes our relationship a challenge. There are these huge potholes that we constantly have to steer around unless we want to risk the wheels coming off. I don’t know why he’d be upset that I view my marriage to Liam as a mistake; clearly it was. I have to remember that no matter what Griffin feels for me, he will always love his son.
Chapter Fifteen
Wren - Present
It’sone of those mornings that’s so still and quiet that you just have to go out and experience it. For once, I’m the first one awake. Don’t get me wrong, I love the way Griffin wakes me up. When his hand slides into the waistband of my shorts or under my tank top, and he strokes and teases me until I’m vibrating with need for him.
But this morning, I just want to enjoy the stillness. My children are all tucked in their beds, where they will stay for at least the next hour. The morning light is weak as it filters through the clouds. Everything is peaceful. Even the birds haven’t decided to start singing yet.
The air is crisp when I step outside with a cup of coffee. I know that Griffin likes to stand out here and watch the world wake up. Since I couldn’t sleep, I thought I’d follow his lead and give it a try.
I’m hoping that the sun will evaporate the lingering anxiety I feel after a long night of bad dreams, along with the dew covering the grass. I think the coffee is doing a better job than the sun, though. With each sip, I wake up a little bit more, and the details of my dreams grow fuzzy.
What remains is still enough to make my hands tremble. I tell myself that other people have survived worse. Somehow, that doesn’t erase the years of neglect, verbal abuse, and self-loathing I endured during my marriage to Liam. But what played in my head the most over the eight hours I tossed and turned is the night everything became too much and I took a broken shard of mirror to my wrist.
I’ve worked so hard to forget the absolute despair I felt that night, but apparently some part of my mind held on tightly to it. I set down my mug on the rail and wrapped my other hand around my wrist to try and stop the memory of the burning pain I felt as my skin ripped open. I can almost feel the heat and stickiness of the blood like I did that night.
My ears still ring with every insult he ever said. All the ways he tore me down when I was already on my knees. I can’t un-hear that, just like I can’t unsee him screwing my former best friend in the backseat of a car that I bought him.
I’m not sure what bothers me more, all the memories I’m currently overwhelmed by, or the fact that after all these years, I can still feel that sad girl who clung on to a boy who didn’t deserve her. It makes me feel weak knowing that he can still hurt me, and confused because I don’t know why.
I love Griffin. No, I’m in love with Griffin. There isn’t a single cell in my body that longs for the life I thought I’d have with Liam, and yet I find that I’m bothered by watching how different he’s been since we parted. I got used to it, but it’s always been in there, whispering that there’s something wrong with me. Andevery day, even if it is deep down, I’ve lived with the fear that Griffin will come to the same conclusion.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
