Page 88 of Someone to Remember
“I’ve told you that. Go on and get out of here. Take a break. I’ll see you Tuesday. And give Wynter our love.”
“I will. Thanks again.”
“Sure.”
I drive home, thinking about Wynter and wondering what I’ll find at home. One day this week, she tore apart Xavier’s room and cleaned every square inch of it before putting everything back in new places, which meant I couldn’t find anything. When I asked her to show me where things were kept now, she said I needed to figure it out.
While I get that she’s going through something, I sure as hell didn’t appreciate that response. I’ve kept my distance from her ever since, which feels necessary but painful at the same time. Wynter and I are about closeness, not distance.
I’ve barely even gotten to hold Willow this week because Wynter has been holing up with her in the nursery with the door closed. I can take a hint even if I don’t like the message she’s sending.
I’m sort of dreading this weekend. All week, I’ve hoped she might work through the rage she’s feeling over Taylor’s loss so we can get back to normal. But that hasn’t happened, and I’m running out of ways to manage it. I may take Xavier to my sister’s house if things are still tense at home.
Although, the last thing I need is Nia asking me a million questions about what’s going on between me and Wynter, especially when I have no answers. I mean, I know what caused it, but I’m not sure how to fix a PTSD-fueled griefreaction that can happen to any of us at any time after what we’ve endured in the past.
I was a disaster for most of the time Wynter was pregnant with Willow, fearing I could lose her the way I lost Sadie after she gave birth to Xavier. For all that time, Wynter stood by me, trying to calm my fears with her gentle reassurances that everything was going to be fine with her and the baby, that she felt it in her soul that Jaden was watching over them and protecting them.
Wynter was good to me when she had her own fears about childbirth and motherhood to contend with. She never once made me feel like I was one more thing she had to manage during that time. I want to be there for her the way she was for me, but she’s pushing me away when all I want is to bring her closer to me.
I could demand that she talk to me… Right. I laugh at that thought. No one successfully “demands” that Wynter do anything she doesn’t want to do. That won’t work. Maybe I could plead with her to let me in so I can help. I could try that… I don’t know. This feeling of walking on eggshells is uncomfortable and frightening.
After the awful ordeal of losing Sadie and then her mother a few months later, I’ve been feeling settled in my new life with Wynter and our children. If she’s changed her mind about me—and Xavier—I’m not sure what I’ll do. She and Willow have become part of me. I need them both. I need our little family to succeed, but I can’t make that happen on my own.
My stress level is through the roof when I arrive at home, three hours earlier than usual. The kids should be napping, so I walk quietly through the house, looking for Wynter. I find her upstairs in our bedroom, putting piles of folded clothes on the bed.
“Hey,” I whisper, fearing that I’ll scare her with my early arrival.
She spins around, seeming shocked to see me.
“I got out of work early.”
Usually, that would make her smile. She’d come to me and wrap her sexy self around me, thrilled to have a little time to ourselves while the babies are sleeping. But today she goes back to what she was doing, as if I’m not there.
“Wynter.”
“What?”
“What’re you doing?”
“Getting some stuff together.”
“For what?”
“I was thinking I might take Willow to see my mom for a couple of days.”
Her mother recently got married and is at her new husband’s condo in West Palm Beach for a few weeks.
“What about Xavier?”And me, I want to add.What about me?
“I figured you wouldn’t want me to take him.”
I step closer to her, noting the odd way she’s holding herself, as if her entire body is riddled with tension. I’m afraid she might break if I touch her. “Maybe we could go with you.”
“Can we afford that?” We try to live on the money I make and not touch the life insurance money she received from Jaden and his parents.
“Can we afford not to?”
Her expressive face projects multiple thoughts in the span of seconds. “What does that mean?”
