Page 62 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two
I lean over one of the full-sized beds in the twins’ room, tucking Raiden into the sheets. Tempest was a ball of energy as she usually is, so she zonked out as soon as her head hit the pillow.
“Mommy?” Raiden’s soft, sleepy voice breaks the silence.
“Yeah, Rai?” I murmur.
“I’m really glad you came,” he says. “You’ll be here when I wake up, right?”
His innocent question has my chest tightening and my nose tingling. How have I failed my children so much that they question if I’ll be there in the morning?
Mom guilt on its own is a bitch. Pair that with very real guilt over missing so many milestones in the last year and a half….
“Yes, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up. And you know what? I’m going to be home a lot more. I’ve missed a lot with you and your sister, and I want things to be different.”
Raiden’s smile is so bright it breaks me. Tears pool before I can blink them away. He lost his front tooth while we were apart—and noticing that? It guts me.
I’m missing so much. Too much. And I hate it.
“Would you like that?” I whisper, rubbing his soft cheek.
“Mmhmm,” he hums, his eyes already sliding closed.
A few seconds later, he’s asleep.
Closing their door slowly, I stand with my back to the white, solid wood and scan the rest of the suite.
There are four bedrooms: two belonged to the nannies who left with Mom, one is for the kids, and one was turned over by the cleaning service after Mama departed, which I’ll sleep in.
The silence in the suite feels unsettling.
Finding comfort in familiarity, I go through my nighttime routine: showering, applying my fancy face oils, and brushing and flossing so thoroughly, my dentist would be proud.
But when I finish lotioning my body, the silence comes back, haunting me.
A sinking, suffocating sensation lodges in my throat, cutting off my air supply.
This is the feeling I avoid—the stunning, uncomfortable, agonizing fact that I amalonein this world despite often being surrounded by people.
There are those who need me, like my mom and my babies. Then there are those who rely on me, such as my employees and clients.
But who do I have to lean on? Friends are amazing, and Yenn and I are close like sisters, but relationships like that can be fleeting.
Case in point, I haven’t spoken to Ezra, our college best friend, since graduation.
And even Yennifer and I have gone longer and longer stretches of time without communication.
I’m in a different stage of life, a difficult stage of life. I only have space for my children and my work.
But in the rare moments when I have neither? Goddamn, it’s the worst feeling in the world.
The loneliness, the grief of losing that intimacy with someone who actually gives a damn…it feels like dying.
My phone vibrates on the nightstand, pulling me out of my morose thoughts.
“Yenn?” I ask, a smile coming back to my face. I’ll have to see her before she leaves France.
“Babe, you settled in your room?” she asks, sounding a little breathless. I’d told her my travel plans in hopes we could coordinate schedules to meet somewhere in the middle.
“Yes. I’m on the top floor, Presidential. You’d be proud of me.”
