May 12 — Tessa’s apartment.
May 12 — prenatal appointment.
June 3 — Savannah hotel.
June 3 — blood pressure follow-up.
July 19 — jewelry purchase.
July 19 — childbirth class.
August 4 — Atlanta hotel.
August 5 — Owen born.
“I didn’t miss all those.”
“You missed enough.”
“I went to appointments.”
“Yes.”
Her voice softened.
“Sometimes you were wonderful.”
“You built the crib,” she said.
“You painted the nursery.
You talked to Owen through my stomach.
You held me when I couldn’t sleep.”
“Then your phone would buzz, and you’d walk out of the room.”
Her eyes finally filled.
“I kept thinking if you were completely cruel, leaving would be easy.”
“But you weren’t,” she said.
“You were kind just often enough to make me question whether I was allowed to believe the rest.”
“I loved you.”
“I know.”
“Loved?”
“I don’t know what tense belongs there anymore.”
For once, I felt panic that had nothing to do with money or the board.
