Page 15 of With a Cherry On Top

“Y-yes.” Holyshit. We haven’t talked since she last disappeared, leaving only a note behind. Took me months to getover that and start worrying about her prolonged absence. “I’m here.”

“I told you not to call.”

My chest heaves, the pain digging deeper and deeper. That’s all she has to say? You know what—Kyle’s right about her. “Your daughter is alive. Thank you for asking.”

“I know Sadie is okay. I talked to your parents.”

She what?“When?”

“Every week. Don’t be mad at them—I asked them not to say anything. It’s better for my sobriety if we keep some distance from each other.”

I slump onto a patio chair. “No, I’m not mad atthem. I don’t have any room for more anger, honestly.”

“Why are you calling?”

“When are you coming back?”

“Whyare you calling, Aaron?”

“That’s why I’m fucking calling, Josie. You’ve been gone for six months, and I know your sobriety is important, but if you don’t give a shit about leavingmestranded, come back for your daughter. She needs you.”

She sniffles. “I can’t come back until I’m better.”

“Maybe you won’t get better until you come back home.”

“And how could you possibly know that?”

I look up at the sky, letting the orange and pink hues ground me as the sun sets on another day. “I don’t, actually. And to be honest with you, I don’tcare. Not right now. Not when my daughter is saying her mom left her behind.”

“I hope you told her that’s not true.”

“No, Josie. I told her you liked another child better. What the fuck do you think I said?”

“See—this is why I can’t come back yet. I’ve been talking to you for one whole minute and I already want to drink.”

Lips pursing, I try to summon all the calm I can harness. “I’mthe problem, Josie? Well, fine. You’ll never have to see me. You can have the house, the car. Fuck, you can have everything, and we’ll only cross paths when I pick up or drop off Sadie. But you need to come back. It’s been six months. You don’t get to abandon your kid indefinitely.”

“Aaron, I have to go.”

“Her teacher wants her to see a counselor,” I rush out, standing. My heart is pounding, because if I don’t convince her now, I might not get another chance to talk to her.

“What? Why?”

“Because she’s struggling. She’s closed off, and she’s not socializing. I see it at home too. She’s sad, lost in her thoughts. She needs you, Josie.”

She’s silent for a long while—so long that I check if the call disconnected. Eventually, she says, “Have you considered that my being there might make things worse? That if I come back before I’m ready, I might stumble again? Do you think that’d be good for her?”

“No, of course not.”

“I’m a mom, and I’m a cop, Aaron. When I come back home, come back to work—I need to be sure I’m ready to face the challenges and responsibilities that?—”

“Igetit,” I insist.

“Then let me go, Aaron. I’ll be back when I’m ready.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying hard not to cry. But the stress is creating a fire-hot ball in my chest, and I’m so fucking tired. Exhausted from being worried. Worried Sadie can see how exhausted I am.

What if she never gets better? What if she never comes back?