My Biggest Mistake Page 4

  His tongue ran over the edges of his top teeth before he said, “Yes. Beth and I are together. But you don’t get to have an opinion on it. You don’t get to share your feelings about it or cause any problems. You lost that right the day you left.”

  The slight November chill hit me and I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself to block it. Maybe it wasn’t the air…maybe it was his confession that sent a shiver through my body, leaving my skin akin to goose flesh.

  “When did that start?” I asked, needing more clarification for some unknown reason.

  Tears continued to surface, blinding me from his face as my mind raced at his possible answer. The mixture of his blurry form and my hurt made it impossible for me to see his reaction.

  He slammed both hands into the door once more on either side of my head, leaving a harsh sound echoing through night and ringing through my ears. “Fuck you, Idelette!” His words came out with such force that I felt the spray across my entire face, mixing with the salty tears. They rattled inside of me, causing my body to shake as if I were standing in the freezing temperatures of the artic. “You have no fucking right to question me. None!”

  I reached up and covered my face with my hands as I broke down and sobbed, hunching my body forward into his. I didn’t lean into him because I sought his comfort or his sympathy, but instead, to keep from fainting. His loud and harsh words left me lightheaded and I feared I would fall over from lack of oxygen.

  His lips came close to my ear and I could feel his breath run through me. “I have only ever had eyes for you. I didn’t choose to sit next to you in science class because there were no other seats…I chose that seat because it was next to you. From that day forward, that’s the only place I ever wanted to be—next to you.”

  His voice cracked and I could physically feel the pain in his words as he whispered them to me. I pulled my hands away from my face and leaned back enough to come nose to nose with him. Without thinking, my fingers found his face, feeling the scruff of his dark hair beneath the pads of my fingertips. I searched his eyes, looking for the faintest of hopes that we could move beyond this. Anything…I would have taken anything at that point.

  He didn’t move my hand or pull away. His midnight eyes searched deep into mine as his frantic breaths came out in waves across my lips. We were at a standoff, each waiting for the other to make a move or speak.

  “You walked away. I kept that space next to me vacant for far too long after you left. It eventually turned cold and lonely. Beth stepped in to help me with the kids. She was never asked, just did it to help. It was never a burden to her and she’s never left. Beth was there when you weren’t, picking up the shattered pieces you left behind. She filled that void next to me. I may have only had eyes for you and only wanted you by my side, but…things change.” And with that, he backed away, letting my arm fall to my side.

  I watched him turn around and walk away from me. Not once did he look back or show hesitation in his steps. It made me wonder the kind of pain he went through when I’d done the same thing to him. Except, he didn’t have to watch me leave. He didn’t have to stare at my back as I took off. Was that any better?

  As soon as the front door closed across the street, I turned and headed inside. It was still dark and empty, but now it was also lonely and cold…depressing and hopeless. I curled into a ball on the floor, using my arm as a pillow and succumbed to my grief.

  I allowed his words to sink in, putting them into vivid images. I pictured a little Mikey coloring a picture of me. I tried to see Livvy, standing on a chair in the kitchen, telling her little brother that I didn’t love them with her far-too advanced conversational skills. It was heartbreaking to watch it all unfold behind my closed eyelids.

  I didn’t think my heart could have hurt any more until I pictured Donnie and Beth. I didn’t want to see those images, but they wouldn’t stop flooding my mind. I couldn’t help but wonder if he touched her the same way he used to touch me. The words that he used to tell me echoed in the quiet room as I imagined him reciting them to her.

  Then my weakness became prominent. My negativity took hold of me and left me feeling as if I couldn’t take it anymore. Being there would only cause more grief for everyone. My kids didn’t know who I was. They didn’t miss me. If I turned around and left again, they would never know. Donovan could be left to live happily with Beth, and I could just disappear into the sunset once again.

  Those were the thoughts that ran on repeat in my subconscious as I slept on the hard, cold living room floor. I don’t think I slept longer than twenty minutes at a time before waking up, each time clutching my chest, and feeling out of breath. I felt drained and hopeless. But as the first rays of sun came through the window, casting light on my life, I found the urge to fight again.

  A knock woke me early. My eyes opened wide, wondering if I had imagined the intruding sound or if someone really was at my door. I waited a moment, listening for something, anything. Another knock, a sound from outside, any indication that I hadn’t dreamt it.

  But there was nothing.

  Finally, I pulled myself from the floor, feeling the aches throughout my entire body from forcing it into the precarious position on the unforgiving floor, and made my way to the front door. I unlocked it and pulled it open enough to peek out. There was no one there. But just as I started to close it, my eyes caught a manila envelope on the ground. Opening the door wider, I reached down and picked it up, glancing around for some clue as to who had left it there. Again, I didn’t see anyone.

  I sat on the living room floor with the early sun as my only light, and opened the envelope, pulling out a stack of neatly printed pages. It was clear from the first page whom had sent it to me—Donovan Leery. I knew this because his name was on it…next to mine. Above our names were the words, “Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.”

  I didn’t cry.

  I didn’t get angry.

  Instead, I put the papers back in the envelope and got ready to face off with my husband.

  I walked into the bedroom for the first time. Well, it technically wasn’t the first time I’d ever walked in there since I had visited often when I lived right across the street, but it was the first time since it became my rental house. The room was completely bare and only served to remind me that I was in the midst of starting over.

  The mirror in the bathroom reflected a very tired woman. My hair was limp on my shoulders and a very mousy brown color. It used to be very pretty, back when I’d spend the time on it. I hadn’t bothered with it in years—since the twins were babies. Maybe if I made a little effort to get it back to the way it was, Donnie would notice. I quickly shoved that thought aside, knowing I needed to do a lot more than color my hair. But maybe it would at least serve the purpose of making me feel better.

  My hazel eyes were dull and decorated with dark rings. Sleeping on the floor proved to be a bad idea, but I couldn’t really blame it on one night. It had happened over countless nights of no sleep and crying. At least my face was clear—except, upon a closer look, I realized how much older I had begun to look. I was twenty-six, but could probably pass as someone in their mid to late thirties. Donovan thought I’d been out living life while he was at home—he had no idea how wrong he was.

  After brushing my teeth, I splashed cold water on my face in hopes it would wake me up some, and then pulled my hair back in a high ponytail. I still wore the same clothes from the day before and opened my suitcase, pulling out a clean outfit. I didn’t want it to look like I’d dressed up for him, so I chose a pair of skinny jeans and a loose, long-sleeved shirt. Ever since the twins, I had opted for loose-fitting tops to hide the extra weight I’d packed on. I had lost the weight, but I never lost the habit of the shirts. I no longer cared about showing off my body—I had no need for it.

  Once I felt presentable to face the public, I slipped on a pair of worn slip-on Vans and headed outside. I walked with purpose across the street, noticing the van parked in the drivewa
y. The sun hadn’t been up long and it made me wonder if the kids were still sleeping. That thought made me nervous, wondering if I would get to see them.

  After knocking on the door twice, Donnie finally opened it. He had on a pair of grey sweats that sat low on his hips and a plain white T-shirt that hugged his muscles in the most distracting way. As my eyes traveled down his body, I noticed his bare feet. I had always loved his feet, thought they were perfectly shaped. Nothing turned me on more than Donovan in jeans or sweats with no shoes or socks. He used to laugh at it, but it was one of the things I had missed the most.

  He cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to his face. A hint of a smile played on his lips that I hadn’t seen in years. I wondered if he knew what I’d been thinking, if he knew I’d noticed his feet and where my mind had gone. If he did, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stood there, holding the door ajar, waiting for me to speak.

  I held up the envelope in the air between us.

  “Glad to know you got it. Is it signed?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

  I dropped my arm and gave him what I assumed to be an exasperated look, wondering how he could be so nonchalant about divorce papers. “No, I didn’t sign them,” I said with attitude. “And I’m not going to, either. How did you even have these drawn up so fast?”

  “I didn’t. I’ve had them for a while, but like I said, you didn’t leave me with a forwarding address. I’m just glad that Nancy Miller was kind enough to give me a call last night to inform me of your new address. It finally gave me a place to send them.”

  I ignored the comment about Nancy telling him I had rented her house. I knew she didn’t mean any harm by it and only wanted to help us reconnect. All I could concentrate on was how long he’d had the divorce papers for, his words hitting me like bullets, wounding me deep. “A while?” I asked in disbelief, hoping I misunderstood him.

  He nodded, taking another sip as if we were talking about the weather. “I allowed myself to sulk over you for an entire year. At any time during that year, you could’ve come back and I more than likely would’ve forgiven you, no questions asked. But you didn’t. At that point, I had two choices. One, I could have continued to sulk, continued to be an absent-minded father, or two, I could’ve gotten off my pathetic ass and moved on. I chose the latter. You may have all the intent in the world to come here and try to win me over and get me back, but that’s not going to happen, Edie. My mind is made up, has been for quite some time now, and it’s not going to change.”

  I swallowed hard, feeling a lump forming in my throat. I wasn’t going to show him weakness. I wasn’t going to cry. Instead, I took the envelope and pressed it into his chest, holding it there with my hand. The momentum caused him to take a step back, allowing me to move more into the doorway.

  “No, Donovan. This is what’s going to happen. Our anniversary is in sixteen days. I am not signing a damn thing for seventeen days. You will allow me access to my children—supervised or not, I don’t give a shit—and you will give me the next two weeks to discuss this. If at that time, you still want me to sign those papers, I will. I’m not going to try to win you back, Donnie. I’m going to demand it.”

  He grabbed a hold of my wrist, which was still against his chest, not giving me an inch to move. His grip was tight, matching the expression on his face. “I’ve already told you, you walked away from your children—that’s parental abandonment. You forfeited your rights as a parent the day you left them. You have no rights anymore. As far as your delusional idea of demanding me back…” He pulled me closer to him until his face was in mine and I could smell the coffee on his breath. “Go fuck yourself,” he whispered, slowly enunciating his words.

  My arm was released as fast as it had been taken and it caused me to fall back a step. “Two weeks, Leery. Two weeks. And I will see my kids. I give you my word now that I will sign those papers, but not a day before November twenty-sixth.”

  He took the envelope in his hand and waved at me, right before closing the door in my face. I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere by standing in his front yard, looking every bit of the pathetic wife who wouldn’t go away. There were things I had to do, and I would get them done.

  The first thing on my list was to check out of the motel. Leaving there, I swung by a salon and fixed my hair. While I was out, I decided to do a little bit of shopping. I needed something to sleep on, but didn’t want to throw money away on furniture. I convinced myself that I wouldn’t be in that house long—Donnie was going to take me back. Delusional or not, that’s what I had to tell myself to get through the day without breaking down.

  After hours of running around, I finally made it back to the house. The first thing I did was set up my new bed, which had been nothing more than a blowup mattress and a few large blankets. Then I made my way outside to start working on fixing the windows.

  The large window on the front of the house had been on the list that wouldn’t open. I tried it a few times from the inside, but no matter how hard I pushed up on the pane, it didn’t budge. I had picked up a small tool kit that consisted of screwdrivers and small hammers, nothing fancy, but enough to get small jobs done. I figured it only needed to be jarred a few times, loosened a little, and it would open.

  It did not.

  I spent God knows how long out front, digging different screwdrivers into the tight space between the pane and the track. Nothing worked. I pressed my forehead to the cool glass and exhaled, giving myself a breather before trying again.

  That’s when I heard it—the sweet sound of children’s laughter. I had heard it many times over the last couple of years, each time causing me to smile. It’d never been theirs, though. But that didn’t stop me from pausing each time I heard the cackles and smile. However, this time…this time I knew those laughs. I could feel them in my bones. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that the laughter swarming me belonged to my kids. My children.

  I turned around, watching three young children run out the front door from across the street, racing each other to the parked van in the driveway. I wasn’t even aware of the fact that I had moved toward them until I was already in the middle of the street. That’s when Donnie came out the front door, locking it behind him.

  He looked at me and scowled, yelling at the kids to climb in.

  I moved my feet faster, wanting to catch up to them before they got in the van. I needed to see them, touch them, hear them. I just needed them. Everything around me began to fade out as I zoned in on my children.

  They paused in the driveway, staring at me with confused expressions. I could tell they had no idea who I was, but I wouldn’t let that stop me. Nothing would keep me from them even one day longer, Donnie included.

  “Hi, Livvy,” I said as I bent down in front of her. I had noticed then the real color of her eyes. The centers around the pupils had taken on a golden color, leaving them an exotic mix of blue-green. It almost seemed as if they were in the midst of transitioning from their once vibrant blue to my dull hazel. That made me sad for some reason, but I didn’t know why.

  She smiled innocently and asked, “How do you know my name?”

  “Don’t worry about it, Liv. Get in the van,” Donnie ordered, coming up next to me.

  She did as she was told without question and I had to fight the urge to stop her. I wanted to stop her, grab her and hold her, never letting her go. But then what would I say? Telling a four-year-old that I was her mother when I’d been nothing but a stranger to her probably wasn’t the best idea. I needed Donnie to help make it easier, but he wanted nothing to do with it. If it were up to him, they would never know me.

  I looked over at the two little boys and my heart sank. They had grown so much since the last time I saw them. Both had blond hair and dark blue eyes with matching dimples when they smiled. Looking at them, there was no doubt they were twins, but there were slight differences between them—fraternal twins. The part that killed me the most was I couldn’t tell which one was Mikey and whic
h one was Gavin. I studied their chubby faces, trying desperately to see if I could figure it out.

  Finally, I reached out and touched the arm of one of them, calling him Mikey with a smile. He looked at me with a confused face that reminded me of the one his father would give.

  “I not Mikey…I Gabbin.” His tiny, shy voice melted into me and burned me from the inside out. I felt tears well in my eyes at the sight of his beautiful face and the sound of his wonderful voice.

  I pulled my hand away and had to swallow hard to keep from crying. I didn’t know my own children, couldn’t even tell them apart. What mother doesn’t know her own children? Even as babies, I knew who they were. I could have dressed them in identical clothes, which I did often, but could instantly tell them apart. I knew my mistake probably pleased Donnie, gave him some sort of satisfaction.

  I looked up at him but saw no such thing. His eyes were soft and the corners of his mouth turned down—sadness filled his expression as he stared back at me. Maybe he knew how I felt inside. Maybe he didn’t hate me as much as I thought he did. Or maybe his sadness had been for the children and had nothing to do with me at all. I stood up and put my head down, watching the boys climb obediently into their seats, needing a moment from Donnie’s intense gaze. I could still feel them on me, burning through me. I knew he hadn’t looked away.

  “It’s fine. It happens all the time. People always confuse them,” he assured me with empathy. “Listen, we have to get going. Please don’t do this again. The driveway on our way out is not the time to introduce yourself to them. They won’t understand.”

  My mouth suddenly went dry and it almost hurt to swallow, but I peered up at him and turned my body to face his. “Let me come. Let me go with you guys so I can spend some time with them. I know this is hard for you, but they have the right to know their mother. They have the right to know who I am. Put them first, Donnie.”

  He let out a short laugh, not of the humorous kind. “That’s some great advice there, Edie. Put them first. Yeah…and at what point did you do that? Huh? When did you put them first? You walked away from being a parent, and now all of a sudden, you have parental advice for me?”