Page 95 of The Love We Deny
“Jess. It’s me. I know you don’t want to hear from me, and I’m not calling about us. I’m not asking you to talk to me or to give me another chance.” I take a deep breath. “None of that matters right now, because Addie needs you.”
The kids are talking upstairs, moving over my head, meaning I have another minute to say what I want to say.
“She’s been struggling, and I didn’t notice, and… she had your pills, Jess. She was thinking about hurting herself. Said she thought it would be easier for everyone if she wasn’t here.”
Ollie’s little feet are stomping down the stairs, with Addie behind him.
“I know I was a terrible husband,” I continue, keeping my voice low. “And I know you had reasons for leaving. But I’m asking, begging you to come back. For her. Please. I’m trying to be what she needs, but I’m not you. She needs her mom.”
Ollie bursts into the living room in his dinosaur pajamas, his hair sticking up from sleep, but his eyes bright. “Daddy!” He shouts. “Addie said we’re watching movies!”
“We are,” I say, clearing my throat, wiping a stray tear from my eye. “Why don’t you two go pick something and I’ll be in there in a minute.”
With the kids settled on the couch, I turn away, long enough to say my final plea.
“Please, Jess. If any part of you still cares about this family. Come home.”
Chapter 24
Frank and Joyce agree to take the kids out to breakfast after I explain to them that we’re having a bit of a family emergency and that I’ll talk to them more later.
As soon as the house is quiet, I start making calls.
Victoria is first, answering with the grumpiness of someone woken up by their boss calling at seven in the morning. “This better be good. I don’t have to be up for another thirty minutes—”
“I need you to clear my schedule for the rest of the week,” I say, cutting her off. “Reschedule what you can, send anyone urgent to the hospital.”
“Is everything okay?” There’s rustling on the other line and I can tell from her voice that she’s starting to worry. We’ve worked together for years, and I’ve never canceled an appointment.
“It will be. There’s something going on with Addie that can’t wait. I’m sorry for the short notice. I’ll make it up to you.”
“You better,” she says with a huff. “I’ll be expecting that raise sooner rather than later.”
“Consider it done,” I agree, a smile gracing my face for the first time in days.
With my appointments taken care of, I pour myself a cup of coffee and scroll through my contacts until I find the name I’m looking for. Dr. Alice Baker. A mental health counselor I’veworked with, mostly during my shifts at the hospital, who I know is the best at what she does.
And she actually answers the phone, so I consider myself lucky.
I explain as much as I can, without knowing what’s going on inside her brain. That she was thinking of harming herself, but hasn’t yet. She offers to see her two days from now, and I accept, gratefully. She gives me a list of things to watch out for, and if she gets any worse before her appointment to take her to the hospital, which I already know, but I thank her anyway.
Just as I start looking into the resources Dr. Baker offered, there’s a knock at the door. And even though I called her myself, I’m still not prepared to open the door to my wife, standing on the porch.
I don’t say anything for a long moment.
Neither does she.
The first thing I notice is that she looks different. Her blonde hair is shorter, chopped at her shoulders. A haircut I’ve never seen on her. She’s lost the weight she gained when she was pregnant with Ollie and never could fully get off. Her skin has tanned and freckled from the Florida sun.
She looks more comfortable in her skin than she has in a long time.
“I got your message,” she says, and I step back, holding the door open.
She takes in the house that was meant for us to grow old in together, to raise our son, and sees the changes that have happened over her absence. “Where are—”
“The kids aren’t here,” I say, guessing her next sentence. “Frank and Joyce took them for breakfast.” She nods, her face falling in disappointment.
“You want some coffee? There’s a fresh pot.”
