Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
But they were happy too, you could just tell. I watched the husband put his hand on his wife’s lower back and rub gently as she swayed with the toddler in her arms. I saw the wife brush her husband’s hair off his forehead as he fed the baby. They were in something together, something they had built, something they would continue to grow. It hit me that even though I’d always wanted to be a dad, I’d really never considered what it would be like to share that experience with someone else. Watching that couple in church, I saw myself and Bianca as we could be. I looked down at my wedding band, which I’d never removed, and then at the family again.
It wasn’t a perfect life, it wasn’t glamorous or easy—there would be spilled juice and Goldfish crumbs and fights to break up and endless crying and sleepless nights and exhausted days. But it would be our life, and somehow I knew there would be more than enough laughter and joy and pride and happiness to balance out the difficult times. And at the end of every day, there would be a little space and time carved out for just the two of us, where we’d hold each other and act like it was just the two of us again—at least until our rambunctious little rug rats got old enough to come busting into our room demanding to sleep in our bed.
At one point, the couple’s oldest kid—a little boy about four years old with dark hair, big brown eyes, and a clip-on tie—wandered away from his parents and came down the aisle. He saw me watching him and hesitated, then he slipped into my pew and stood next to me.
Smiling, I moved over to give him more room. His dad noticed his absence right away and frantically looked around. When he spotted the kid next to me, he gestured for him to return, and his face said he meant business. But the kid refused, shaking his head no and crossing his arms over his chest. It totally reminded me of something I’d have done at his age. I gave the man a smile and an all-good gesture, and he telegraphed his thanks.
The kid stood next to me solemnly for a few minutes, and when Father Mike asked his congregation to share peace with one another, he turned to me and offered his hand. I shook it, and right afterward, he scooted back toward his family. I watched him go, and then noticed for the first time that Bianca was standing on the far side of the church, at the back, in the same row I was.
Our eyes met for ten full seconds, and I couldn’t breathe. She looked toward the altar again, wiping her eyes. My chest felt like an eighteen-wheeler had parked on it.
A moment later, we lined up for Holy Communion, and when I got back to my row, I fully planned on going to sit next to her. Taking her hand. Whispering in her ear and asking for another chance.
But when I looked for her, she was gone.
Dejected, I snuck out of church, went home, changed my clothes, and spent the rest of the day at the Center Avenue house.
Thinking of her every second. Missing her fiercely. Wishing she was there to argue with me, tell me I was removing the wallpaper wrong or bought the wrong color paint or chose the wrong light fixture or bathroom tile. I trusted my taste, but hers was better, and I hated that we weren’t doing this together anymore. I hated the thought of another night without her. I hated the thought of my life without her. I wanted what I’d seen in church today—a messy, beautiful life with her by my side.
At five o’clock I called it a day and drove over to Griffin and Blair’s apartment. I felt like I needed some advice.
Blair answered the door, looking surprised to see me and not all that pleased about it. I figured she’d probably heard about my showing up at Bianca’s place last night.
“Hey,” I said. “Griffin here?”
“No. He’s at the store.” She studied my face and seemed to soften a little. “But he should be back any minute.”
“Can I come in? I really need to talk to you guys.”
She hesitated, but then gave in. “Okay.”
I entered the stairwell and started up the steps. “I take it you’ve talked to Bianca today.”
“Yes,” she said, following behind me.
At the top of the stairs, I turned to face her. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”
She reached the landing and looked me dead in the eye. “Yes.”
Frowning, I ran a hand over my jaw. “I need advice, Blair. I’m fucking miserable.”
“I can tell. You look like you haven’t eaten or slept in days.”