Page 23

23

Maya

T hat night, after Christian left without even attempting to stay with me once Finley goes to bed, I find myself sitting on the sofa, watching our son play with his Legos on the floor. He’s completely absorbed in his blocks, his little face full of concentration. Every now and then, he glances up at me with that same innocent curiosity, like he’s still thinking about the conversation we had this morning.

“Mommy?” Finley asks, his little eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and something else—something deeper.

“Yes, sweetie?” I manage, trying to sound calm, but I can already feel that this conversation is about to head in a difficult direction.

“Why doesn’t Christian live with us?” His question hangs in the air like a ticking bomb. God, why didn’t it occur to me that he would wonder why we’re apart?

I take a deep breath, my mind racing for a way to explain things to him without overloading his little heart. “Because Christian and I… like we discussed this morning, we aren’t married.”

“You and Uncle Preston lived together and weren’t married,” he points out.

“Yes, but Uncle Preston is my brother. We’re family.”

“Christian’s not our family?”

“Of course he’s our family, but we’re just not as close with him as we are with Preston.”

Finley frowns, clearly not satisfied with my answer. “But why? All my friends live with their mommies and daddies together. Some of them have two mommies and two daddies.”

My heart clenches at the innocence of his words, at the way he’s trying to piece together a world that doesn’t make sense to him. I reach out and gently ruffle his hair. “Sometimes mommies and daddies don’t live together, baby.”

“But Christian’s going to leave soon and then we won’t see him or Uncle Preston except on TV.” His voice rises slightly, filled with the urgency of a child who’s trying to understand why his life isn’t like all his friends’. “Why can’t we live where they live?”

I struggle to keep my voice steady. “It’s complicated, sweetie.”

He looks down at his Lego bridge, his small hands fidgeting with it. “Christian said he loves me and that I could call him dad if I want to.”

I didn’t know Christian had said that to him, but I’m so glad he did. “You can call him dad or daddy or just keep calling him Christian. That’s totally up to you.”

“Does Christian love you too?”

The question pierces through me, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. I want to give him an easy answer, something that will make everything make sense in his little world, but the truth is so tangled up in past hurts and present uncertainties that I don’t know how to put it into words.

I bite my lip, trying to hold myself together. “Christian… cares about me a lot, Finley. I care about him too.”

“But you don’t love each other?” Finley’s voice grows louder, more insistent. “If you loved him, could we go live with him?”

I can feel the frustration building up inside me, bubbling over from my own doubts and fears. I know he doesn’t mean to push, but every question is like a little dagger poking at a wound I’ve been trying to keep closed.

“Finley, I’m sorry that this is so complicated…” My voice wavers slightly. I’m supposed to be strong for him, to be the one who has the answers, but right now, I feel as lost as he is. “But it’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” His voice breaks, and there’s a tremor in it that tells me he’s about to cry. “I want to live with him, not you!”

“That’s not going to happen!” I snap, sharper than I intended, mostly out of sadness, and instantly regret floods through me.

Finley’s eyes widen, and his lower lip quivers as he looks up at me, startled by my tone. Tears well up in his eyes, and before I can say anything else, he bursts into sobs, covering his face with his small hands.

“Oh, sweetie…” I whisper, reaching out to pull him into my arms. I hold him tightly, my heart aching at the sound of his cries. “I’m so sorry, Finley. I wish it was as easy as it sounds to up and move and all of us live together, but it’s not.”

His little body shakes with sobs, and I gently rub his back, trying to soothe him. “I know you’re confused, and I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry.”

“I’m going to…miss him...like I miss…Uncle Preston.”

“I know. I know you will.”

God, seeing him so upset, maybe I should just cave and move us to North Carolina. I want to do just that, I do. But then there will not be any excuses to give Finley if Christian stops coming around, or if I can’t find a job. I’ll be right back where I started, being dependent on my brother thanks to my parents throwing me out and refusing to pay my tuition. At some point, I have to stop letting them, life, hold me back from finding my own happiness.

Besides, during the hockey season, we may as well be living in a different country than the players who constantly stay busy on the road.

I wish there was a simple way for me to decide, to know for sure, what’s best for us in the long run.

Then it hits me.

If I get the perfect job I want so badly, working at the retirement home before Finley starts school, then that means that we’re meant to stay in Maryland. It’s fate. This is where I can stand on my own two feet for the very first time, and Finley can keep his routine, his friends.

If I don’t get the job, well, I can’t let Preston keep paying for two houses, one here and one in North Carolina. I’ll only be putting more of a burden on him, so I’ll enroll Finley in a school down there for fall, even if the thought of packing up our things and leaving our life here behind makes me nauseous.

God, I hate change. I hate empty boxes and saying goodbye to my home with so many happy memories.

Finally, Finley’s sobs begin to quiet. I continue holding him, rocking him gently, whispering soft words of comfort. “It’s okay, Finley. Everything’s going to be okay.”

He pulls away slightly, his red, tear-streaked face looking up at me with so much innocence, and my heart breaks all over again. “I just… I don’t want the summer to end, Mommy,” he whispers, his voice small.

“I know, baby,” I say softly, brushing a tear from his cheek. “I don’t either.”