Page 79 of Playing A Risk
We sit for a good five minutes while she lets her tears fall. She asks questions I have no answer to, but for once, she doesn’t hit me for it.
She stays balled up in my arms, letting me console her. I think her anger has finally moved on and overwhelming sadness now stands in its place.
“I always pictured him to be smart like me and a socialbutterfly like you.” The words have a hard time coming out of my mouth.
“Don’t forget built like you. I’m too small to have our boy take after me.” She peels herself away from me.
My shirt is wet from her tears, making my skin cold when her warm body disappears from my arms. It doesn’t matter, though, because this is what she needs.
She forces a smile and stares back at the photo. “But he’s tiny here, so maybe he would’ve been small.”
I turn the frame so I can see the image better. “Nah, he was bigger than he should’ve been, so I think you’re right.”
“We can assume he would’ve been all those things. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to picture him that way.” She sucks in a breath to catch her cry.
“Then that’s what I think we should do. When we think of him, we’ll see him strong, smart, outgoing, and all our good qualities, wrapped up into our perfect son.”
She nods, and we share a moment of silence before she speaks again.
“I’m thinking about going back to school.” She shifts to face me. “I want to be a designer.”
I release the picture frame. “You did great with Aricin’s room, so you might be onto something.”
“Thanks.” Her eyes cast down. “If I do, I’ll be moving out of state.”
I pull back in shock. “Where?”
She raises her gaze. “There’s a great school in St. Louis I’m looking into. It’s too late to get in for this semester, but I could take some online courses to prepare for it.”
“St. Louis is pretty far away. Are you sure you want to pack up and leave all your friends and family?”
“I want a fresh start, so yeah, I think I’m up for it.” She places the picture back in the box and moves it to the side. Then she takes my hand. “It’s hard for me knowing you’re here and everything we were building is gone.”
My chest tightens because this is another topic that usually sets her off. “Lauren, I’m sorry our relationship didn’t work out. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t see how we can go back. Too much has happened.”
“I know. That’s not what I’m saying.” She takes a cleansing breath. “My mom approached me after you dropped me off at her place the night I lost it on you and your friend. She thinks I have postpartum depression.”
I nod as I move my arm to the top of the couch, giving Lauren my full attention. “That would make sense.”
“It would, but I believe it’s deeper than that.”
“What do you mean?”
She gazes into my eyes. “After I got pregnant, I felt off. I would rage one day and be flying high the next. I didn’t know how to stop it. People kept telling me mood swings were normal.
“I’d never hit anyone before then, so I thought it was that. It was confusing and scary for me. It sometimes still feels like I’m not the one doing it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling that way? I would’ve gotten you help.”
She shakes her head. “I couldn’t see through it. It’s hard to explain. Anyway, that’s not my point. The point is my mom wants me to get help. I’m going to do it because I still don’t feel like me. Even sitting here, I don’t feel all the way myself.”
I sit and wait for her to speak. This isn’t what I expected and I’m lost on how to deal with her realizations. They make sense, though, so she may have the answers she’s been looking for.
Tears stream down her face, but they’re different from earlier. She’s more stable.
“I’m always going to love you, Jamison. The life we were going to share and our son—I’m always going to love. My heart still breaks every day, but I don’t feel like killing youanymore.” She laughs through another cry. “Today’s a good day and I want to end on this note.”
“Okay. We can end the day here.” I squeeze her hand and release it, pushing myself up off the couch.
