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We’ve found our rhythm now. Life is getting a little easier, if there is such a thing. Either that or we’ve just gotten used to the weight of the world constantly sitting on our shoulders.
Astria is no longer attached to my breasts. That in itself has offered me freedom that at the time I didn’t realize I missed. She attends the childcare center more now, which gives me more time to work on my schoolwork. I was able to take on a full load this semester, and still manage to have time to continue to build my online photography platform.
“Trust me, I have seen the way that man looks at you. I get hot just thinking about it.” I fan my face with the travel pack of baby wipes that sits in my lap, ready to go to war with whatever mess these two can conjure up at a moment’s notice. I make it a rule to never leave the house without them.
Sylvia brushes me off. “Please, like Damien doesn’t look at you the same way.” She rolls her eyes, and a wave of sadness hits me out of nowhere like a ton of bricks. People see what they want to see.
“Yeah.” I smile, but it doesn’t crease the corners of my eyes. I’m a fraud.
“Seriously, girl wake up, your husband is so gone for you it’s not even funny. And the way he brags on you constantly? Please.” She pushes, and the words of truth bubble up into my throat.
How long has it been since I’ve been able to share any part of my life with anyone other than Damien? My own mother doesn’t know the truth about our marriage.
Damien was right, it works. We’re co-parenting Astria, and she lives a happy and full life. But at what cost? I’m losing myself. Every day, another piece of me is chipped away.
I’m mom. I’m student. I’m Damien’s best friend.
I’ve lost me…I’ve lost Gia, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to find her again.
“So, are you traveling with them this weekend?” Sylvia’s question takes me by surprise because it’s not something I even considered.
“As in, three days from now?”
I never travel with the team. Ever. I’d have to leave Astria behind, and the season is almost over. We’ve almost made it through a second one, and somehow this is still working.
And the game this weekend…well, it’s one I’ve been trying to pretend was never going to happen. This isn’t just any game. It’s the game.
“Obviously, it’s a huge game for them!” Sylvia echoes my thoughts, but not in the same way. “The Chambliss Lions are legendary for their hockey team! If our boys beat them…this could be it. This could be everything Carter has been working toward. Gosh, that man works so hard. I just…I want him to see his dreams come true. You know? Of course, you know. I’m sure you feel the same way about Damien.” Sylvia bounces on the couch next to me with excitement that I just can’t conjure up.
Tyler and Damien are going to be on the same ice again. Sylvia’s not wrong. This game is huge, and I already know how stressed Damien is about keeping his emotions under control. He’s been brooding about it for days already. The tension in our apartment is enough to suffocate an elephant.
I’ve got this nagging voice in the back of my head telling me that he needs me. But why? How? In what capacity? He hasn’t come right out and said it, not in those words exactly.
I mean, he asks me to go to every game. Always. But we have an agreement about traveling, and we’re both on the same page about leaving Astria with anyone overnight. Neither one of us are comfortable with that yet.
When do you get comfortable with that as a parent? Just the thought makes me feel sick to my stomach.
“I think I’m going to stay back. I need to stay with Astria, and…” I start.
“Girl stop. When was the last time you had a date with your husband?” A date. Um.
Control your face, Gia. Control your face. This is basically your only female friend, be cool.
“It’s been a while.” I watch Camden and Astria play with trucks on the floor in front of us with an intensity that isn’t warranted for a playdate with toddlers.
“A while as in last month?” She pushes, and I can’t help but get annoyed with her. I’m immediately defensive. How is it any of her business? This is my relationship. Or lack thereof.
“Maybe a touch longer.” My shoulders stiffen, as I feel myself begin to physically close off from the conversation. I’m alienating myself. I have to protect our family and our secrets.
“Last year?” She pushes a little bit more, and I dig my fingernail into the side of my palm in a failed attempt to check my temper.
“You know, I don’t remember exactly.” I pop off with more attitude than I intend.
“You don’t remember? You don’t remember the last time you and Damien were actually alone together?”
My hands curl into fists. Who is she to judge to my marriage?
“It’s not a big deal, okay? We both agreed to make sacrifices while Astria was young. This is just another sacrifice. It’s a means to a bigger goal. It’s a decision we made, together, for our family.” I hate the words as I say them. Because, while they’re true, they hurt. Somewhere buried deep beneath the words of sacrifice and grown-up decisions is a woman that just wants to be seen as someone other than a mom, a friend, or worse – a little sister.
