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8
Elizabeth
When I get back to my house, I practically run inside, eager to hug my babies. But Cat is waiting for me as soon as I open the front door and corners me in the foyer.
“Are you okay?” she asks, eyeing me with concern.
Rubbing my hands over my face to wipe away any remaining evidence of the tears I’d shed, I smile with wide eyes. I’m not sure I look it, but I feel pretty good. It wasn’t easy to say those words to Xander, but it was freeing. My heart has been so heavy from carrying around the pain of losing him.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” I look around her for Maddison and Sean, not hearing or seeing them. “Wait. Where are the kids?”
“They’re outside playing with Lori.” Closing the little remaining space between us, she begins rubbing her hands up and down my arms. It reminds of the way she tried to comfort me in the hospital the night Xander died.
“Cat, what are you doing? I want to go see my kids.” I unsuccessfully try to step away from her as she pulls me into a smothering hug.
“Oh, Lizzy, are you sure you’re okay?” Her voice is strained, like she’s on the verge of tears. “You sounded upset on the phone.”
“I’m fine. Are you sure you’re okay?” I pull out of her embrace, peering into her eyes. “You’re the one who seems to be upset about something.” Panic hits and my stomach drops as I take in the sadness behind her eyes. “Is it the kids?” Feeling frantic, I step around her to make my way to the back door. “Are they okay?”
Cat steps in front of me, blocking my path again. “The kids are fine.”
“Okay…” I narrow my eyes at her. “Then why aren’t you letting me go see them? What’s going on?”
“I thought you might want to talk.”
“Talk?” I ask, with a slight shake of my head. “No. What would I need to talk about?”
She shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know. Did anything eventful happen while you were getting coffee?”
“What?” The hairs on my arms prickle and my breath catches. “Who told you about my panic attack?”
“Panic attack,” she screeches, her eyes widening. “Oh my gosh, Lizzy, what happened? I thought you said you weren’t having them anymore.”
“I haven’t been, but it’s not a big deal.” Stepping around her, I make my way toward the back door, needing to at least lay my eyes on my children since Cat seems determined to keep me from them.
“It is a big deal. I’m worried about you, sis. We all are.” She follows right behind me. “Are you still seeing your therapist?”
My anger spikes, and I whip around to face her, placing my hand on my hip. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I’m still seeing Dr. Gentry.”
“I only ask because I care about you. It’s been over two years. It’s time to—”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize mourning your husband’s death had a time limit,” I counter.
“That isn’t fair, Lizzy.” Cat puts distance between us and leans against the countertop, hugging herself. “I’m not saying you can’t mourn him or even miss him, but the way you’ve been living—or not living, as the case may be—isn’t good for you or the kids.”
“Jesus.” I throw my hands up in the air. “I’m trying, okay?”
“So, you didn’t go see Xander today?” She raises her eyebrows, her mouth pressing into a hard line.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” I grit, cutting my eyes at her as my body tenses.
Cat has pleaded with me time and time again not to spend so much time at the cemetery, saying my frequent visits would only hold me back. I ignored her, wanting to be close to him in any way I could.
As much as I hate to admit it now, I know she’s right.
“But it does,” she argues. “That’s what I’m talking about. It isn’t healthy.”
“Just stop, okay. Yes, I went to see Xander, but I went there to tell him goodbye.”
