Page 47 of The Widower
“You’re not the only one who misses them,” I said quietly. “I think about your sister every single day. I’d give anything to have her here with us.”
“I don’t wanna play anymore!”
He stormed off toward his room, slamming the door behind him.
My head was pounding. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, trying to make sense of what was going on inside my son’s mind.But it was useless.
I had no idea what to do anymore. That was the truth.
“He’ll come around with time, Colin,” I heard Helen say softly behind me, and I opened my eyes.
“I don’t know, Helen. I try to reach him, but he shuts me out completely. I’m a lousy father.”
“No, you’re not.” She sat down beside me.
I can’t be harsh with Helen. Don’t ask me why, but she’s one of the few people who never manages to irritate me.
“The accident broke me,” I said quietly. “Completely.”
“I know Maddison’s not coming back,” she replied, her tone gentle but firm, “but Joshua’s still here. Deep down, he knows you both need to find your way back to each other.”
“I need to fix this,” I said, standing up and forcing a faint smile. “I’ll think of something. And… thank you—for being here, even when I can barely stand myself.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that. I’ll always be here, whatever you need.”
I never doubted Helen’s words. If there was one person who had always been there for me, it was her.
I just hoped I could finally learn from my mistakes—and stop making things worse between me and my son.
ISABELLE CAMPBELL
Today, I was supposed to take Colin’s son to school.
I honestly didn’t quite understand the point of that—especially considering he had three drivers at his disposal—but I decided to let it go.
“Is Joshua ready?” I asked Helen, who already looked swamped with chores this early in the morning.
“He’s on his way.”
I waited for about five minutes, but the person who showed up wasn’t Joshua—it was Colin.And the way he was looking at me was... different. Not as sharp, not as cold.
“Good morning,” he said.
Small miracle. Colin had actually greeted me first.
“Good morning. Sleep well?”I asked, seizing the rare opportunity to make conversation.
“As well as possible,” he said with a faint sigh.
“That’s good.”
“Isabelle, I need to talk to you about Joshua—specifically, about you taking him to school.”
“You’ve got several drivers,” I said, confused. “I don’t really understand why I need to take one of the cars and drive him.”
“That’s the thing.” He took a step closer, then lowered his gaze. “You’re not taking a car.”
“I’m not?” I frowned.
