To our home.
I tried telling myself that I was channeling my inner Rae, wanting to look good to feel good, but I knew it was a lie. I wanted to look good for him. And a part of me wanted to show him that I was fine when I was the furthest thing from it.
Once I’d gotten a handle on myself the day before, I’d picked up my phone. Cursing myself for dropping it while inspecting the shattered screen that was beyond repair as I stood to find the bed and breakfast’s phone.
Beau had answered on the first ring.
“Savannah.” My name was agony and relief and had new tears forming. “God, Savannah, talk to me,” he’d begged when I hadn’t been able to respond. “I need to see you. The kids.”
I’d nodded shakily, sucking in an audible breath. “Yeah, um, you can. The kids, I mean.”
The following silence didn’t need words. I felt his gratitude and absolute fear leaking through the phone. When he’d spoken, his voice was strained. “Okay. Okay, I’ll be there as soon as work’s over.”
“No.”
His exhale was pure pain and had ripped through me, shredding the remaining pieces of me.
“No, um, not today,” I’d said quickly, stumbling over the words as I’d looked around the kitchen that was a testament to how horribly I was handling everything. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he’d repeated. “Savannah—”
“Tomorrow, Beau.” I’d hung up before he could say anything else, sharp cries tearing from my chest and threatening to send me to my knees all over again.
I’d gotten rid of as many desserts as I could by giving them to friends and family and anyone in town who would take them. I’d frozen what I could and hid the rest. Then I’d spent the rest of the afternoon and late into the night cleaning when I wasn’t playing with the kids.
Today had been slow and torturous, watching the hours crawl by as I waited for this moment. But now that it was here, I wished it wasn’t.
I wished I had let him come the day before, so I would’ve already been done with it. Or that I’d held off for a couple more days, so we would have guests, and I’d have them as a distraction because I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing Beau and not fall apart. Wasn’t sure I could stop myself from begging him to make our lives go back to the way they’d been before my heart had been destroyed.
I reached for my phone to check the time, forgetting that I didn’t have it on me because it was useless with only a small portion of the screen working. The only good thing to come from that was I hadn’t been able to spend hours going through pictures and listening to Beau’s voicemails once I’d gotten in bed the night before, just to hear his voice and see him.
“Oh, you look real pretty, Mommy,” Quinn said when I poked my head into their playroom.
“Yeah, real pretty,” Wyatt echoed.
A shaky smile tugged at my mouth. “Thank you. I need y’all to finish cleaning up and then come out to the kitchen please.” I hefted Levi higher up on my hip, then continued through the halls, stare darting everywhere to make sure nothing was out of place or needed to be cleaned.
I wasn’t sure the house had ever looked this good—even when my parents came. But I was restless over it. As if the way the kids, the house, and I looked directly reflected how I was dealing. And it was so important to me that Beau thought I was handling this well.
Even if it had taken me over two weeks to call him back.
Just as I was walking toward the living room to set Levi down with some toys, the front door opened, and my heart leaped into my throat.
Hard, thunderous steps echoed through the entryway, my spirit going all kinds of crazy because I knew the man those steps belonged to. I’d been loved by him most of my life. Worshipped. Cherished.
Lied to.
I tried to steel my jaw as I turned just as he came into the room, his body seeming to cave when he saw me standing there. Face twisting in pain and relief and some indescribable emotion that made my chest ache.
“Dadda!” Levi cried out, reaching for him, and Beau stumbled.
A choked sob breaking free as his eyes filled with tears. “Fuck,” he whispered as he closed the distance, grabbing Levi from me and pulling him close. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Levi grabbed at Beau’s hair and pressed their heads together, babbling Dadda over and over.
Beau’s smile was joy and pain and regret as he nodded against Levi. “Missed you, buddy.” Just as his glassy eyes slid my way, Quinn and Wyatt’s shouts had him turning in time for them to barrel into his side.
“Daddy, you’re here!” Quinn shouted as she tried to hug all the way around his waist.
“We missed you, where’d you go?” Wyatt called out as he tried to climb up his side.
“Are you back, back? All the time back?” Quinn asked. “Don’t leave again. Okay, Daddy?”
Beau’s head dropped back to face the ceiling, his jaw trembling for those long moments before he looked at our kids again, trying desperately to hold all three of them. “I missed y’all so much.”
“And Momma too?” Wyatt asked, all unreserved excitement. “You missed Momma too, right? Doesn’t she look real pretty today?”
Midnight eyes found me, piercing me and tearing me apart from the pain and sadness etched there. “Every day,” Beau said, voice thick as his gaze slowly dragged over me. “She’s beautiful every day.”
“Are you getting divorces?” Quinn asked unexpectedly, shocking me.
“What?” I asked, the word a breath as I met her sad stare.
“Avalee said when she didn’t see her daddy for a long time, it was because her mommy and daddy were getting divorces, and they weren’t gonna be married anymore. Are you getting divorces because we haven’t seen Daddy for a long time?”
I grabbed the back of the couch to keep me grounded. To hold me up.
“N-no,” I finally said, head moving in small, fast shakes. “Of course we’re not getting a divorce.”
We’ve already been through so much. We can make it through this too. We have to.
But even as that thought entered my mind, I wondered how we were supposed to.
And Beau . . . he looked terrified. Sick. The dark circles under his eyes seemed even more pronounced than they had a minute before, as if he’d heard every thought.
“Things have just been . . .” I struggled to swallow past the grief gripping my throat, my head shaking as I thought of anything to say. “Busy,” I said, going with the excuse that had pacified them these past two weeks. “He’s been busy.”
“We’re always busy,” Wyatt groaned. “Why can’t Daddy be busy here?”
“Sometimes things are hard,” Beau began, voice soft but edged with that steel I’d known since I was nine years old, “and sometimes we can’t understand them, but we find a way through them. Together.” His pleading stare met mine at the last word.
I jolted at the high-pitched shriek from Levi and automatically reached for him, mumbling, “He’s hungry.”
“I know,” Beau responded just as softly, a hint of offense weaving through the two small words. “I’ve got it.” He moved past my awaiting hands, keeping Levi close to his chest with the older kids trailing close behind.