Page 33 of Tomorrow Belongs to Us
She and I are such different creatures; different people with different interests, and while this isn’t a good reason to go our separate ways especially when we have a child, her roving eye and interest in others makes it impossible for me to look the other way.
My mistake was to fall for a woman who had it all; she was feminine, pretty, easy to get along with, and she made me laugh. I was instantly smitten. It was a year on from my sister’s death. I’d changed my life to be there for my niece and my brother-in-law and in this respect Megan is right. I did abandon her. Maybe I poured myself into helping my sister’s family to get out of the mess that would have been me and Megan because I often wonder what might have happened had I stayed on at the school after that night that changed everything.
Outwardly, Vivian and I looked perfect together, but things slowly fell apart. My feelings began to fade, the shiny glint wore off. Worse, I was no longer in love. She made it difficult to love her. I sensed that Vivian didn’t love me. Shelustedfor me. She liked having me on her arm, liked the way other women stared at me, liked that she was the one who had me. She often commented that I was like a magnet when I entered a room, attracting women like iron filings as I walked around.
I could turn a blind eye to her cheating because our daughter was my life. I wanted Cassie’s world to be perfect and untainted. A couple of times Brett and Sarah came to stay, and I was able to take Cassie to stay with them. At least the girls know one another. I miss Anna, but having Sarah and Cassie in each other’s lives, albeit once in a blue moon, meant something. I often wonder what Anna would have made of Vivian. I wonder if she would have prevented me from making such a monumental mistake.
“Can you stay today, Daddy?” Cassie asks.
I look at her chubby little face and my heart melts. “I’ve got work tomorrow.” Her eyes turn sad. “Maybe I can come over on the weekend?” I suggest, hating to see her look so unhappy. Cassie sheers up instantly but my smile turns to stone when Vivian sashays over to my side. Her top with its deep-plunging neckline seems oddly inappropriate for day wear.
“Poor baby,” she coos, gingerly touching Cassie’s hair. “I hope that cut won’t leave a big bald patch on your head.”
Vivian is tactless. “That’s a war wound, obtained in the line of having fun, right, Sweetpea? Like mine,” I say, pointing to my shoulder.
Cassie smiles proudly. “You’ve got two, Daddy, This one,” she touches the scar along my jaw.
“So I do, but I don’t want you to try to catch up with me, okay? We’re not having a competition to see who gets the most scars.” I gently place her on the floor. “One war wound is enough. Don’t you worry about this either.” I gingerly lay a finger a few inches from her wound. “Your hair’s going to hide it.”
Cassie squeezes my hand, cheered up by my words.
“It’s time to get ready for bed, Cassandra,” Vivian says. She always finds a way to ruin things when we’re bonding.
I toss her an irritated stare. “Can’t you let her stay up a little?”
“Please let me, Mommy!” Cassie whines
“She’s got school tomorrow.”
“Pleeeease, Mommy.” The more my daughter pleads, the more Vivian’s reluctance to relax the rules annoys me. “Don’t be so difficult, Vivian.” I try to keep my voice level. “She’s been to the hospital. Surely you can find it in that heart of yours to relax the rules?” Cassie and I could watch a movie, and have popcorn, a blanket and cuddle up on the couch. Now that I’m here, it would be a shame not to make the most of it.
“Baby.” Vivian rests her hand across the back of my neck and I try not to flinch. Her closeness is claustrophobic. “I can absolutely relax my rules around you.”
I step away, freeing myself from her claws.
“You can stay up another half hour, Cassandra,” she says. It’s hard to miss the wave of disappointment that rolls over my daughter. I struggle to rein in my anger. Vivian is a manipulative shrew. I would walk away from this woman and have nothing more to do with her were she not the mother of my child.
“Half an hour?” I spit out.
“You know what she’s like in the morning,” says Vivian, defensively. “You’re not the one who has to deal with waking her up the next day and taking her to school.”
“I’ll stay and then I can take her to school.” I weigh the pros and cons of being closer to my daughter at the cost of tolerating her mother. If I take Cassie to school, Vivian won’t have a reason to complain.
Cassie squeezes my hand even more tightly. “Please, Daddy. Please stay.”
“I would love to, Sweetpea, but—.” I look at my daughter and my heart melts. All the love in the world wouldn’t be enough to describe what I feel for her. “I can stay a few days, how’s that?” I suggest, overcome with gratitude that her injury wasn’t worse.
“A few days?” Cassie shrieks. “Yay! But you don’t have any PJs …”
I grin, bemused by her worries. “It’s okay. I can make do.”
“I could find you something to wear in bed.” Vivian’s voice is silk and seduction and very much wasted on me.
I tap Cassie’s nose gently, ignoring Vivian’s remark. “I am staying, even if I have to wear stinky clothes to work tomorrow.” I’ve got a small stash of clothes here in a closet in one of the spare rooms.
“We can have Wheaties in the morning, Daddy!” Her eyes light up and I examine in awe the wonder on her face, at how young children have so much gratitude for the smallest things, while we are weathered and damaged by the years, grateful for nothing, and complaining about everything.
I jam my hands into my front pockets. Cassie pleading like this always cuts me to the core. At times like this I realize just how much our divorce will eventually hurt her. She has no idea about our separation and she doesn’t seem to think there’s anything odd about our arrangement, about us not living together. I’ve begged Vivian not to tell her yet. Cassie doesn’t need to know. I want her to be a little older before she finds out.
