“Then why don’t you speak to him?”
“Because I trusted my heart before and look where it got me. Now I’m doubting everything. If this is what love feels like, then I don’t want it because it really fucking hurts.” My eyes fill with tears.
Cal pulls me into a hug. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“How can you be so sure?” His chest muffles my reply.
“Because if Declan loves you half as much as you love him, then he will stop at nothing to make this right.”
After my breakdown yesterday, I decide to visit the one person who understands me most. Maybe my mom can help me get a better understanding of the emotions plaguing me. Although she doesn’t know the whole story about my marriage, she knows enough about relationships to help me understand mine.
Her classroom hasn’t changed over the years. It still smells like old paint with a hint of glue, and it reminds me of afternoons spent coloring while she ran her after-school program.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise.” She returns my hug with a squeeze.
“I wanted to see you.”
“What happened?” She shoots me the same look she always does when something is up.
“Nothing…”
She laughs as she pats one of the classroom benches. “Sit.” She passes me a blank coloring page and a pack of colored pencils.
This is how things always worked between us. Color and confess she would always call it, seeing as she always got me to break down eventually.
“As much as I love you stopping by to see me, I can’t help but wonder why.”
“Do I need an excuse to come visit my mother?”
“Seeing as you haven’t visited my classroom for three years, yes you do.”
I sigh.
“That bad, huh?”
My head drops as I stare down at my hands. “Declan and I got into a fight last week.”
“Ahh. I assumed as much.”
“Things got a bit too real and honest, if you know what I mean.”
The few wrinkles by her eyes tighten. “He said some things that hurt you.”
I give her an abridged version of our fight, mainly focusing on our issues with work and how that bled into our personal life.
“I can’t help but wonder…” My voice trails off as I consider how to phrase my worry.
“Whether he might turn out to be like your father,” she finishes for me.
“Yes.”
She puts her hand over mine, stopping my coloring. “It’s a normal fear after everything you’ve witnessed between your father and me, but you need to understand that couples fight. It’s a part of any healthy relationship. That doesn’t mean the other person should ever talk down to you or intentionally hurt you, but people make mistakes. This isn’t going to be the first or last time Declan says something he doesn’t mean in the heat of the moment. But so long as he is sorry—and I mean truly sorry—then you need to learn how to forgive him.”
“Easy for you to say.”
She gives my hand a squeeze. “Learning how to forgive is just as important as asking for it in the first place.”
1 Noun, Portuguese: A feeling of longing, melancholy, desire, and nostalgia.
46
DECLAN
Like clockwork, I send Iris another message in the morning. I attach a photo of us at the Botanic Garden with a word that describes the exact yearning I feel for her.
Me: Sehnsucht1.
I stare at my phone screen for far longer than I should, waiting for a reply that never comes. My heart shrinks in my chest with each ignored message.
You can either get upset or move forward with the plan.
I take a deep breath, shut down my computer, and lock up my office.
“Where are you going?” Cal looks up from the computer.
“I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
“What?”
“Please cancel my appointments for the remainder of the workday. I won’t be available.”
“All eight of them?”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, but—”
“Great. See you tomorrow.” I make my way toward the exit before stopping to look back at my brother, whose mouth is still hanging open. “Thanks for helping me out. I know you don’t have to, but I appreciate you stepping in for Iris nonetheless.”
“I’m doing it for Iris. Not you.”
“I know, which is why I appreciate it even more.” I leave the office with my head held high and ready to push my plan into action.
Harrison and I drive around all of Chicago as I search shelter after shelter for the perfect dog. Iris was specific about her requirements, and I don’t plan on screwing them up. My enthusiasm dwindles with each shelter that comes up empty, and by the tenth one, I’m losing hope.
“Maybe we can try again tomorrow, sir.” Harrison holds the car door open for me.
I release a heavy sigh. This is an integral part of my plan, and I’m already failing. How hard can it be to find a big, fluffy dog who will follow Iris around everywhere?
Damn near impossible it seems.
I pull up my phone and look up the next shelter on my list. “Let’s try one more and then I’ll call it a day.”
Harrison drives me to the last one. It’s not in the best part of town, so I don’t plan on staying long since Harrison and the Maybach might not be here by the time I get out.
A bell rings above me as I enter the building. The only employee in the place doesn’t look up from her magazine.
“Hello.” I stop at the counter.
She blows a bubble with her gum before popping it. “We’re closed.”
I check the sign on the front. “You’re still open for another thirty minutes, so try again.”
Her eyes widen before narrowing, as if she recognizes me from somewhere but can’t pin down where. “How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for a big, fluffy dog that has separation anxiety.”
“That’s oddly specific.”
“Tell me about it. Do you have any dog that fits my description?”
“Umm…not that I know of.”
The last ounce of hope drains from me. I’ll regroup and try again tomorrow once I’ve had a good night’s rest. Or at least as good as I can get with Iris on the other side of Chicago, sleeping in my brother’s apartment.
I knock my hand against the counter. “I see. Thanks for your time then.”
“Do you want to take a look out back just in case?”
I open my mouth to say no, but I think better of it.
You did drive all this way. You might as well go check out the place while you’re here.
“Fine. Lead the way.”
She shows me to the back room. Kennels line the walls, stuffed with dogs and other animals all waiting for a new home. Some cower in the corner of their cage as I walk past them while others hiss or bark in my direction.
“See any you like?”
“No.” All of them are either too small, too well groomed, or too scary to be deemed appropriate.