Page 33 of The Edge Of Us

I moved through the house like I was sleepwalking, like something outside of myself was pulling me forward.

I stopped at Astrid’s bassinet first. She was breathing softly, her tiny hands curled into fists. I traced a finger along her soft cheek and whispered, “I love you, my sweet girl. I’m so sorry.”

Then I tiptoed to Kyle’s room. He was curled under his Spider-Man blanket, thumb tucked in his mouth, clutching his teddy. I knelt beside him, brushing his hair off his forehead and pressing a kiss there.

“You’re my everything,” I whispered. “You made me a mom. I’ll always love you.”

He stirred but didn’t wake.

I walked to my bedroom, cold hardwood under my feet, the old posters still on the wall from when I was fifteen. I opened the window. The winter air hit me like a slap—sharp, real. I stepped onto the ledge, gripping the frame with trembling fingers.

The wind tugged at my nightgown.

It’ll be quick. It won’t hurt. They’ll forget. They’ll move on. They’ll be okay without you.

Tears slipped down my cheeks as I looked out at the stars. I thought of every moment that led here. The humiliation. Thebetrayal. The isolation. I thought of crying while breastfeeding, hiding my tears so Kyle wouldn’t ask what was wrong. I thought of the exhaustion, the bone-deep emptiness.

And just as I leaned forward—

“Mommy?”

My eyes snapped open.

Kyle. Standing in the doorway, eyes heavy with sleep, Spider-Man pajama top twisted around his belly, teddy in one hand. He rubbed his eyes and blinked at me.

“Mommy, why are you out there?”

I froze.

A sob rose in my throat, but I forced a weak smile. “Baby… go back to bed, okay? Mommy’s just… getting some air.”

He took a step toward me. “But I had a bad dream. I wanted you to sing the rainbow song.”

His voice was soft. So soft. And scared.

He took a step closer. “But where are you going? I had a bad dream. Can you tuck me in again?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but another voice beat me to it.

“Corinne?!”

My mother. Panic in her voice.

“Corinne, where are you?!”

Footsteps thundered down the hallway.

Then—“Oh my God.”

She was there, her hand flying to her mouth, my father close behind.

“No,” my mother whispered, her voice breaking. “Please. Baby, no. Come down. Please.”

“I can’t,” I said, the tears now flowing freely. “I can’t do this anymore, Mom. I’m so tired. Everything hurts.”

My father’s face was pale, eyes filled with horror. “Corinne, please. We’ll get you help. Don’t do this.”

Kyle whimpered, still standing frozen at the door. “Mommy? Please don’t leave.”

---