“So what are you two doing for your anniversary next month?” Samantha asks after she finishes chewing her bite of veggies.
Silence reigns at the table in the wake of her question. I slowly meet Holden’s gaze. I had forgotten that the one-year mark of our relationship was in six short weeks. Judging by his expression, so did he. I take a sip of my water in order to hide my discomfort. How could he have forgotten? How couldI?
Samantha and Phil look between us, frowning, but I duck my head so I don’t have to see the judgment that’s surely on their faces. My appetite fades into nothing, replaced by a heavy knot in my gut. Shame washes down my spine, hot and thick as it spreads through my body. Clearing my throat quietly, I push myself to my feet and gather up my plate and fork. I’m no longer hungry, and I need to do something that isn’t dwelling on the fact I nor Holden found it important enough to remember our anniversary.
As much as I love my parents, I never thought I would follow in their footsteps. I could not have anticipated, not once, that my relationship would go much the same as the marriage between Rose and Jackson Higgins. It wasn’t until I was a teenager and asking questions that they admitted they didn’t spend enough time with each other, they didn’t find the same things important, they didn’t work hard enough to keep their love alive. Eventually, they’d sat down and decided to end their marriage.
Now look at where I am with Holden. Only a year together, and already we’re growing apart.
My mind races for the rest of the evening. Even as I watch Holden playing with the kids, that damned voice in my head keeps asking if I’m prepared for the end that’s coming. He’s none the wiser about the storm brewing inside of me, and I loathe it. I want—need—him to interrupt me from this infinite loop of doubts and crushed dreams. He doesn’t, though.
Holden leans against the doorframe hours later; his arms are crossed over his chest as he watches Ashton sleep. I wrap my arms around his waist, resting my forehead against his shoulder, and breathe in his familiar scent. The one that’s never failed to ease my troubled mind.
Until tonight.
“He’s peaceful like this, isn’t he?” I whisper, and Holden huffs out a quiet chuckle. “You coming to bed?”
“I’ll be there soon.”
I close my eyes against the sharp twinge in my chest but pull away. Holden doesn’t move, doesn’t look back at me, as my hands fall away from his side. I stare at his back for a long minute then turn, making her way on silent footsteps to our bedroom.
I fall asleep before he comes to bed.
Broken Walls
Istirtoconsciousness,groaning at the soft light that stretches toward my face from the window. An emptiness presses against my back. It’s relentless in its absence of my boyfriend. I roll over to face the cold stretch of mattress, and something in my chest gives a harsh tug at the sight. A small part of me expected it, especially after having fallen asleep alone last night, but most of me had hoped that Holden would be here when I woke up.
Pushing back the blankets, I roll out of bed and shiver in the cool air of the morning. My brows furrow when I realize I can’t hear any voices. Ashton isn’t babbling away to his stuffed animals in his room or downstairs talking to Holden. I rub my hands along my arms as I make my way to his bedroom.
Finding the room empty fills me with a twisted sense of déjà vu. I turn away from the unmade bed and strain to hear something—anything—that will tell me where the child is. Thankfully, it’s easy enough to follow the soft notes that filter through the air, the quiet voice humming along.
Ashton is curled up on Holden’s lap, blue eyes watching as Holden’s hands move across the keys of his piano. I breathe a sigh of relief and cross the room to sit next to them. Holden doesn’t stop playing even as he leans over to kiss me, and my heart soars at the sweet smile he gives me. This feels right, more like it should be. It almost makes me forget the reality of the situation.
“Morning, favorite boys of mine. How long have you two been awake?”
Holden shrugs, presses his lips to Ashton’s hair. “Not too long. Sorry if we woke you.”
“You didn’t.”The lack of you did. I don’t voice the thought. “What are you playing?”
“Something I’m using for the album.”
“It’s beautiful.”
And it is. The melody drips with poignancy, saturated with a sense of loss and heartbreak. I lean into Holden’s side and close my eyes. I want to ask why, why this particular tune, what is he thinking? I can’t find the words, though. Not without potentially making him doubt himself.
“I’ve been thinking,” he murmurs after a moment, fingers stilling on the keys, then he pulls his hands back. “Hey, Ash, why don’t you go read your books for a minute? Auntie Dee and I need to talk.”
Ashton huddles closer; his eyes fall shut as he buries his face in the front of Holden’s shirt. “No.”
I stifle a giggle as Holden’s expression turns exasperated. When he turns betrayed eyes on me, all I can do is shrug. He reluctantly smiles, hefts Ashton into his arms, and moves toward the living room. I follow. Ashton clings tightly to Holden as they sit on the couch.
“He’s missed you,” I announce in a quiet voice.
“I’ve missed him, too.”
“So you were thinking,” I remind him in lieu of letting out everything I’m holding back, instead of asking if he missed me, too.
“Yeah. Phil was right. Our anniversary is next month. We should do something.” He pauses and shakes his head. “I lost track of time. I didn’t realize it was so close, even though I knew it was coming up.”
