Page 84 of So This Is Love

“He tells me a lot of things,” she says. “But no, he didn’t tell me anything. He just asked me if I would make him some soup because he wanted some comfort food for the both of you. So here I am.”

“That’s really sweet,” I whisper.

“Oh it’s nothing, darling. He’s my son so I’ll always do what I can.”

Those words are what break me.

The ones that cause the tears that I haven’t been able to shed, for myself, for my loss, for the part of me that I’ve had to harden to survive, to finally fall. First in slow streaks down my face and then a body wracking sob into my hands pressed to my face.

It only takes a moment for me to feel Bryce’s mom’s arms wrap around me. Her presence is comforting, while I cry so hard snot bubbles form and I'm hyperventilating.

She stands next to me and holds me, one hand rubbing my back in rhythmic circles. She doesn’t try to ask me what’s wrong or placate my feelings with empty positive words. She just lets me cry and cry until all the tears have left my body, leaving the beginnings of a headache in their wake.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

My gut reaction is to tell her ‘no’, to tell her that I’m fine, to ball up all my emotions and stuff them down inside of me like I have for my entire life. But something about this moment won’t allow me to do that. Words spill out of me as I tell her everything, all the feelings that I’ve been holding in since I saw those two pink lines and everything else that’s happened since.

“I didn’t mean to get pregnant,” I say, wiping my eyes with the cuffs of my sleeves. “I hadn’t even made up my mind on what I wanted to do but I still feel so -”

I shake my head, unable to produce a word that could accurately describe all the emotions running through me right now.

“My husband and I lost two babies between Lauryn and Bryce,” she says. “The first pregnancy was a surprise. We thought we were done having children after the girls. The second was planned. The circumstances didn’t matter, they both hurt.”

“Don’t force your recovery. And I’m not just talking about the physical. Let yourself feel all that you need to and give yourself grace. It’s okay to feel your pain. Sometimes we put all this pressure on ourselves to be okay and to snap back to normal but we shouldn't because pretending to be okay doesn't make actually being okay happen any faster than it was already going to.”

The pot of soup starts to bubble higher, threatening to boil over and Bryce’s mom swiftly goes over to tend to it. She adds the last few ingredients out on the counter and is slowly stirring the pot when Bryce comes back in.

He walks over to me and places a hand on the back of my stool. He looks between me and his mother, a question poised on his tongue when his mom speaks first.

“Your soup is just about done,” Bryce’s mom says, putting the last seasoning jar back into the cabinet. “I have to go pickup RJ from daycare.”

She stirs the pot before placing a lid on it and adjusting the temperature. “Just let it simmer for a while longer and then it’ll be all done.” I’m unsure of the definition of ‘a while’ in this instance but I hope that Bryce knows so that we don’t ruin her hard work.

She places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Remember what I said and if you want to talk some more, I’m available any time.”

I nod and give her a tight smile. Bryce walks her to the door, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she leaves and he closes the door behind her.

Bryce walks back to the kitchen and stands on the other side of the island. “Can I run you a bath?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” I say, happy that I’m finally cleared to take them again after the surgery.

He holds out his hand to me and I take it as we walk to the bathroom together.

I lean against the vanity as I watch him begin to start the bath. He plugs the bottom and turns on the faucet to the massive freestanding tub in the center of the bathroom and then walks to the linen closet, opening the door.

A small smile comes to my face when I see him pull out a bag withLovely Daypackaging. It’s one of our bath salt soaks, anewer item to our product line that was a part of our summer restock. I hadn’t even known that he had bought it before seeing it right now. He sprinkles some of it into the water before returning the rest of the bag to where he retrieved it from.

As the water rises, he tests the temperature, running his fingers through the water and then adjusting the handles accordingly.

“Ready?” he asks, when he’s satisfied with the water.

“Yes.”

I allow him to help me undress, raising my arms and lifting my legs to shed my clothing. I take the few steps to the tub and stick one leg in and then the other, easing down until I’m sitting with the warm water covering me nearly to my shoulders.

The water is the perfect temperature, straddling that delicate edge of hot but not too hot, wonderfully.

“Join me?”

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