Page 101 of Push

“Here,” he said.

A few drops of water plopped on the tiles as the cloth dangled from his fingers until I grabbed it. I dabbed it over my face. When I didn’t pass it back to him, he gently pried it from my fingers, balled it up in his fist, and shot it into the sink.

He was quiet for a moment before he sank to the floor behind me. There wasn’t enough room for his legs to stretch out. Being all scrunched up didn’t bother him, but he was tentative, his hand pulling back before it settled on the curve of my stomach. He tucked my head under his chin.

“How many mornings did we sit on the bathroom floor like this when you were pregnant?” he asked.

“Um…” I hid a smile. “All of them?”

“Yeah.”

For a man talking about vomit, he sounded happy. Maybe he wished we could rewind time and live in those moments before the whole world turned upside down. I did.

“Gwen,” he said, his voice all softness again. “You need to talk to someone.” I started to protest, but he urged me to listen by whispering a“Shh”in my ear. “I’m putting my foot down. You’re not okay. One mention of Ian, and you completely shut down. There was always a lot of old news filling up space in your head. All the years dealing with your mother…and mine. Your old job. Liam’s back, too. I know it weighs you down. I can see it in everything you do.”

His words coiled tight around my chest. “You think I’m a failure—”

“How can you possibly fail at anything when you’re killing yourself to be so damn perfect all the time?”

“Ineedto be.”

Was it one mistake or ten before I ended up like my mother? Where was the tipping point? What was the mistake that ruined a childhood? There was no margin for error when you didn’t know the benchmark.

“Youdon’t.” Toby’s sigh was all frustration. “Noah doesn’t need to do six hundred activities a day, and even though you are Super Mama, you don’t need to be. You sure as hell don’t need to do a job that bores you to tears to earn mega dollary-doos. You also don’t need to drink those green smoothies I know you secretly hate because you’re worried about fitting into your old clothes. Screw that. Buy new clothes.” He squeezed the plump roll of my hip and sighed softly. “I think these curvy bits are perfection even if you don’t.”

I batted away his words to focus on the safe ones. “I don’t hate the smoothies.”

His chest rumbled with a laugh. “Tell that to your face the next time you drink one.” He leaned closer to murmur gently, “And I know what you did just then, too. Changing the subject. That’s cool. I’ll say what I need to say anyway, so listen up. You don’t need to be perfect. No one is. You come damn close, but even a Honda Buffalo Pro breaks down sometimes.”

My eyebrows popped up. “Sorry.” I turned my head to make sure he’d see my scowl. “Did you just compare me to a lawn mower?”

“The verybestlawn mower. Trust me, it doesn’t get much better than those Hondas.”

I responded to his enormous smile with a droll expression. “I guess I’ve found the first issue to workshop with a psychologist,” I joked. “Tell me, smart therapist person, why does my husband compare me to yard equipment?”

Toby grinned. “All I’m hearing is that you’re going to talk to someone.”

“Ye-yeah.” I was terrified, but it couldn’t make anything worse, could it? “I’ll find someone and make an appointment.”

“That’s my girl. Would you consider talking to the police—”

“Absolutely not.”

“Gwen—”

“No way. No police. But a therapist…maybe. Okay?”

“No, but I’ll take the small win for now.”

We stayed huddled in silence for a few more minutes until I wriggled out of Toby’s arms and forced myself onto shaky legs. He never left my side. He helped me clean up and told me I was “flipping gorgeous,” even though the face staring back at me in the mirror was a ghost. He stuck with me until I stopped outside the living room.

“I should probably try explaining everything to Mar,” I said.

“Want me to stick around for moral support?”

I shook my head. “I need to have a go on my own.”

His hand settled in the dip in my back. “Knock ’em dead, doll.” He gently nudged me forward.

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