Page 37 of One Little Mistake

Erin

It feels like I’ve stepped into a parallel universe—or maybe I’m just dreaming the most beautiful dream in the world.

Max and I fall asleep and wake up together.

I move around the kitchen while he works in the yard—fixing the fence, hauling stones to the backyard, trimming trees.

Sometimes he just lies in the hammock with Tim napping on his chest. We’ve gone out to the river a few times for small picnics, kissed, laughed, and simply enjoyed each other.

I feel happy. Truly happy, for the first time in years.

And Max doesn’t even need to do anything to make it happen. He just has to be here, like he is now.

But I’m scared. Scared that one morning, I’ll open my eyes and he’ll be gone.

I’m falling for him—hard—and it terrifies me.

We haven’t known each other that long. I’ve been hurt before.

And love, in its rawest form, is dependence.

And breaking free from that? Nearly impossible.

Max hasn’t given me a single reason to doubt him, and yet.

.. Life has taught me that nothing this good lasts.

Let your guard down for one second—and it all crumbles.

And, of course, I was right.

A week later, I wake up to find his truck no longer parked in the yard but out on the driveway near the gate. Max is dressed and on the phone, pacing.

I rush outside in my slippers, trying to catch a few words of his conversation—but I can’t make anything out. He sees me and quickly wraps up the call.

“You’re up?” he says, stepping toward me and pulling me into his arms. He kisses me—but all I want to do is scream. To grab onto him and not let go.

“You’re leaving?” I ask in a hoarse whisper, avoiding his eyes.

“Got a call from the company. They need a few documents I left back at my place.”

“What? You’re going back out to sea?” My eyes widen in shock as I stare at him.

“Calm down, Erin. It’s just an interview. They might not even have an opening.” He cups my face gently, forcing me to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes across my cheek, but it doesn’t comfort me this time. Not at all.

“Do you want me to bring you anything from the city?” he asks, like this is just a quick errand.

“No, just come back soon, okay? Or... maybe I’ll go with you? Let me just change and grab Tim,” I blurt out and instinctively turn toward the house, but Max stops me before I take a single step.

“I promise, I’ll be back by tonight,” he says, kissing me one last time before hurrying toward his truck—leaving me in the middle of the yard, wrapped in a shawl and shivering from the early morning chill. I watch his back with growing unease. Please, let nothing happen to him.

All day, a strange feeling won’t let me go. But what am I even worrying about? Max texts me regularly, lets me know he made it to the city, and eventually messages that he’ll be off the grid for a bit while at the crewing company.

Still, I try to shake the tension, distract myself by thinking about what to make for dinner.

An hour passes. Then another. Then three.

Max still hasn’t called. I finally cave and text him first—no reply.

It’s already getting dark, and the pie I baked has long since gone cold, and Max still isn’t home.

I keep telling myself to calm down, to just be patient and wait. But I can’t. My stomach is in knots.

Finally, around ten at night, my phone rings. I snatch it up without hesitation.

“Hello? Max?”

“Hey... did you miss me?” His voice is quiet and tired. I press the phone tighter to my ear, afraid to miss a single word.

“Where are you? Are you close? Are you coming home soon?” I ask anxiously.

There’s a long pause. He exhales heavily.

“Erin... I’m shipping out.”

“What? What do you mean? When?” I cry out, panic rising in my throat.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“So soon? Why didn’t you tell me this morning?” My voice cracks. My chest tightens. Bitterness and disappointment fill me. Why now? Why when things were finally going right?

“I didn’t know,” he says softly. “Didn’t think it would happen this fast. They needed someone right away.

Listen, Erin—this contract’s three months on, three off.

Not six or nine like before. You won’t even have time to miss me before I’m back.

And I need this. I want to work a few more years, save up, open a business—so you and Tim will have everything you need. So I can stay with you year-round.”

“I already have everything I need. I just… I don’t want you to leave. Not now.”

My voice comes out small, a little whiny, and I can’t stop the trembling in it—or the quiet sniffles.

“You’ll wait for me, right?”

“Of course I will. Why would you even ask that? What time’s your flight? Will I see you before you go?”

“Seven a.m. I’m packing now, picking up a few things I’ll need. As much as I want to come see you, there’s just no time to make it there and back. The company delayed signing the contract, and I had to wait until HQ sent it back. I’m sorry. I feel like crap, too, if that helps at all.”

“No, I just… It’s all so sudden. But I mean, it’s only three months, right?”

“Right. Listen, I’m leaving my keys with the front desk.

I’ll tell the concierge to expect you—go pick them up when you get back.

I want you to come home. Both of you. I want to know that someone’s waiting for me.

I didn’t touch the nursery. The crib will need to be moved back again, but I’m sure Logan will help.

I’m also leaving some cash in the kitchen cabinet.

Use it for Tim. Don’t worry about work, just focus on him. ”

“Max?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re real, right?”

“Of course I am, baby. Just give Tim a kiss from me and don’t cry.”

“I will. I promise.”

“I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you again before I take off.”

“Maybe I can make it to the airport in time? Say goodbye in person?” I ask, even though I already know he’ll say no. My mind’s racing, plotting ways I could make it into the city.

“No. Don’t, okay? I’ll just worry the whole time. It’s the middle of the night—who would even drive you?”

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Erin. Don’t be reckless, please. Just get some sleep and stop overthinking everything.”

His tone shifts—firm now, no room for arguing.

“See you in three months,” he adds, chuckling softly.

“Not funny.”

“It’s the best I’ve got. Promise me you’ll listen to me?”

“I promise,” I say, after a pause.

“Good. Then sleep tight. I’ll text you, and if you’re still up, we’ll talk a bit more later.”

“Okay. I won’t sleep. Call me.”

We say goodbye. For a few minutes, I pace around the house, unable to pull my thoughts together. I knew this moment would come eventually, but I didn’t think it would be this soon.

I halt in the middle of the room. I can’t just let it end like this. I need to say goodbye properly. Hug him. Kiss him. Look into those incredible eyes and tell him I’ll wait. That I love him.

I bolt out the door and rush to my neighbor’s. Tucker—my old classmate, once my best friend. And more importantly, he has a car.

“Can you take me to the city? Please, it’s urgent. I’ll pay whatever you want,” I blurt out, breathless.

“Right now?” He blinks at me, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

“Yes. It’s really important. Please,” I beg, and I squeal when he nods.

I run back home, dress my sleeping son, throw a few things into a bag, and climb into Tucker’s car. Max is going to kill me—no question—but he’ll cool off. I can’t just let him leave like this.

I’m practically buzzing with impatience the whole ride back. The road feels endless, but when the city lights appear on the horizon, I finally exhale and smile.

I pay Tucker, thank him a hundred times, and rush inside. My chest is tight with anticipation—excited and terrified all at once. Just one day apart, and I already missed him so much. What will I do when he’s gone for three months?

The elevator takes forever. When the doors finally slide open, I hurry toward apartment 217—the one that once changed everything. But I stop just short.

His door is open.

My heart thuds. I step forward slowly, cautiously, and peek inside.

Then I see it. And it feels like the floor gives way beneath me.

I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle the sob. My chest seizes. Tears spill instantly.

There he is. Max. Standing in the middle of the room. Holding another woman.

I recognize her instantly. His ex-wife. Here. At one in the morning. At his place.

And suddenly, everything makes sense. Why he told me to stay at Grandma’s tonight. Why he kept saying today wasn’t a good day. Why he was acting off.

She’s clinging to him, her fingers digging into his shoulder. He’s gently rubbing her back like he’s comforting her.

I stumble backward. One step. Then another. And another. Like I’m trying to outrun the pain tearing me in half.

I can’t look at it. It feels like my heart is being torn apart, piece by piece.

No. No. No. This isn’t happening. This isn’t my Max. He wouldn’t—he couldn’t—just hand me over like that.

I need to go back and demand answers, but I’m so scared, I can’t even move.

I rush back into the elevator, clutching my sleeping son to my chest with one arm while wiping away hot, salty tears with the sleeve of the other.

I ride down to the sixth floor, unlock the door to the rental apartment, and gently settle Tim into his crib.

Then I lock myself in the bathroom and cry.

Loud, aching sobs that stretch deep into the night.

I cry until there’s nothing left. Until morning comes. Until pain gives way to numbness.