Page 47 of The Gathered Fragments of Us
I watched confusion cloud her features. Perfect.
"Because she cares about me?"
"Oh, I'm sure she does—in some way. But she also knows that if you're happy there, it makes your father happy." I paused for a moment. "And you know, if your father is happy, maybe he won't leave her."
Seeds of doubt were planted. I could see them root a bit, now I could let Macy's own insecurity water it.
"But...no. Really? No, Mom, she's not like that." Then she whispered, "she's nice to me."
"Of course she is!”
Macy’s face reared back at my raised voice. I needed to tone it down. She doesn’t understand how things work. God! Why does my head hurt so badly?!
I rubbed my temples as I started again. “Honey, I’m just trying to tell you that's this is how these things work—it feels good at first. It's only later, when everything falls apart, where the kids are left hurting." I brushed a strand of hair from her face with practicedtenderness. "And you're my baby. Of course I don't want you to be the one left hurting. Because things will fall apart, Macy. They always do."
"Dad wouldn't leave her. Would he?"
"I don't know, sweetheart. Marriage is complicated. What I do know is that, when children get too attached, they suffer."
I let that sink in for a moment, watching her process the implications.
"I can't tell you how to feel—I would never do something like that. I just want you to be careful, okay? Guard your heart a little bit. Don't let yourself be used as a pawn in their game."
"Is that why you didn't want me to make the video for her?"
Smart girl. "Partly, yes. I'm concerned that you're telling her you're sorry for something. And whatever it is, I'm sure you're just taking responsibility for adult problems that aren't your fault. And that's not fair to you."
Macy nodded slowly, and I could see the doubt continuing to take root. Good.
"Now, I want you to get some sleep. And tomorrow, we're going to have a conversation about computer privileges. You were such a good girl tonight—following the rules… And hearing me out. I think maybe you've earned some of those privileges back."
I kissed her forehead, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. My daughter. Mine.
"I love you, Macy. More than anyone else ever could."
"I love you too, Mom."
At the door, I paused. "Oh, and sweetheart? If your father asks about visiting this week, why don't you tell him you'd rather stayhome with me. You don't have to tell him you know about their problems. It's just until he and Felicity work things out."
"But Mom—"eels
"Trust me on this one, okay? It's for the best."
I closed her door softly, leaving her alone with her doubts and thoughts.
By morning, she'd be questioning every kind thing Felicity had ever made. By next week, she'd be pulling away on her own, protecting herself from the inevitable disappointment.
I removed my shoes to make my way downstairs, their echo of the heels had made me want to scream. I pressed my hand to the side of my head to help relieve the pressure. It didn’t help though.
I needed things to work out perfectly, and they would as long as Macy pulled back from Felicity, and any suspicion from Caden about it—well, that would just create more tension in his precious little marriage.
In the kitchen, I poured myself a glass of Pinot. Brad would be waiting for me upstairs, probably still irritated at me for cutting the evening short. I'd need to smooth that over. Maybe I'd tell him I was worried about Macy's behavior lately, that I needed to nip some of this pre-teen rebellion in the bud before it becomes a bigger issue when shedoesbecome a teenager. He'd understand that—Brad appreciated a firm hand with discipline.
I took a sip of wine and pulled out my phone, scrolling through my work emails. Three new pre-approval requests, one contract question, and a reminder about the Henderson Avenue closing on Wednesday. Normal Sunday night business.
I needed to remember to email Lauren about the credit card replacement. She hadn't responded to my last request, which was unusual. Normally she was so efficient about handling Caden's expenses.
The wine warmed my throat as I finished the glass and poured another glass to bring to our room. Reaching into my bag, I grabbed a pill–I need to get rid of this headache. I took two—it's going to be a busy day and I couldn’t afford for it to get worse. At the end of the day, maybe take Macy shopping for school clothes—a little mother-daughter bonding to reinforce tonight's message and ensure her loyalties. It’s for her own good, I reminded myself. Even if she hates me for it later.
