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Laughing, I kissed her again, relieved she was here with me. No matter how shitty life was, I always had this beautiful, perfect spark of joy I got to claim as my own.
And that was worth a whole lot.
I couldn’t forget that.
Chapter Forty-two
Clara
It might have been the wrong thing to do, but throwing myself into work was about survival. I spent a week in Utah overseeing the new management at our plant there. Fortunately, Marina was able to come with me to watch Nellie when I was working, and the three of us went on adventures when I wasn’t.
The distance helped. Being somewhere I hadn’t shared with Jake seemed truly imperative to…well, breathe.
I couldn’t decide if I was overreacting or if what Jake had done was as horrible as it felt. Forgiving him and brushing it aside certainly would have been the easy choice, and god, how I wished I could do that.
But it didn’t feel right. What was to stop him from doing something like this in the future? He could tell me he would never keep anything from me again, but he’d made so many promises he could break just as easily.
As soon as we were home from our trip, a different kind of pain began. Nellie had run through the house like she was looking for something, then came trudging back to me, her little lip poking out.
“Where’s Jake?”
“He’s not here, honey. It’s just us girls.”
“Okay.” She fished my phone out of my purse and handed it to me. “We can call him.”
My stomach twisted into a barbed wire knot. “Not right now. What if we watch your show?”
She’d been distracted that time, but later, after her bath and bedtime stories, she brought him up again.
“I can call Jake.”
“No. I’m sorry, but it’s too late. He’s sleeping.”
“He sleeps at my house.” Her chin bunched and quivered. “Sage too.”
“Not tonight,” I told her as gently as I could.
“Tomorrow?”
I smoothed her hair from her sweet face, wishing I could give her what she wanted. I wanted him too, but I didn’t know how to get past this. Or if I could.
“We’ll see.”
She jerked her head away, clutched the dolls Jake and Shira had given her, and rolled over, giving me her back. Under her breath, she muttered, “Want my Jake.”
The remnants of my broken heart crumbled into dust. I couldn’t give her what she wanted, and it felt like it was my fault. All I could do was be present and remind her she was safe and cared for and that would never change. “I love you, Nell-Belle. Very, very much. I hope you have sweet dreams.”
After a moment, I heard a quiet, “Wuv you too, Mommy,” and for a very short span of time, all was right with the world.
It didn’t last.
The next few evenings and bedtimes were filled with demands I couldn’t fulfill and angry, mournful tears. How I’d kept myself together in front of my daughter, I could not say. It was a feat I hadn’t known I’d had the strength to survive.
“Where’s my Jake?” she cried, big fat tears streaming down her cheeks. “I need my Jake!”
“I’m sorry, Nell-Belle. We can’t have Jake right now.”
“No!” Her cry came straight from her heart. “My Jake! I call him. I need my Jake, Mommy.”
