Taylor instantly masked his sadness with a cheerful smile. “The good news is you’re moving back to Estes Park.”
“What? With you?” Hollis said, jumping up from his seat. He threw his arms around Taylor’s neck, and I tried not to let it hurt too much that he was so eager to live with his Dad.
“With Mom, too,” Taylor said. Both kids’ gazes bounced between Taylor and me. “That’s the confusing part.”
“Mom’s moving back, too?” Hadley echoed. Cautious hope flashed in her eyes.
“Your dad and I think it’s a better idea if we move back into the house in Estes, where you can have your old rooms back and go back to school with your old friends.”
“But you’re not together?” Hollis said. I could see the confusion on his face.
Taylor swallowed, already hating what he was about to say. “I’m going to get an apartment until your Mom and I figure things out.”
“An apartment?” Hollis groaned. His eyes glossed over, and he collapsed on his chair. “That’s fucking stupid.”
“Hollis Henry Maddox!” Taylor growled.
He wasn’t used to the cursing, the mood swings, or the anger like I was. As far as the kids were concerned, I had ruined their lives, and Dad was their savior.
Taylor regained his composure, and he pulled Hollis in for a hug, forcing him onto his lap. “You’re not happy here, and your mom sees that. It took a lot for her to call me and figure out how to get you back home. I don’t mind finding an apartment for a while.”
“For how long?” Hollis said, trying not to cry. His cheeks flushed red, making his already faint freckles less noticeable.
“Hollis,” I began. “We’ve talked about this. Sometimes moms and dads need some time to—”
“This is bull crap!” Hollis said. “If we’re going to live in Estes, we should all live together.”
“But we can’t,” I said, firm. “Not yet.”
Hollis stared at me for a moment, hatred in his eyes. At these moments, I waited in fear for him to scream that I wasn’t really his mom, but he hadn’t yet. Teeth clenched, he pushed up from his chair, the legs whining against the tile, and he stomped to his room.
Taylor sighed. “That didn’t go as well as I thought it would.”
“You should go talk to him,” I said.
Taylor kissed Hadley’s forehead and then nodded, following Hollis to his room.
“Mom?” Hadley said. “He can have my room.” I looked at her for a moment, confused. Her platinum hair reminded me so much of Olive, down to the splash of freckles across her nose. “Dad. If you don’t want him sleeping with you, he can have my room.”
I reached for her hand, and to my surprise, she took it. “I wish I could explain this to you so you could understand.”
“I understand,” she said. “He got arrested, and you got mad at him. But you’ve been mad at him for a long time. Can’t you be done being mad now?”
I looked down. “It’s just not that simple, love. I wish it were.”
She nodded, her gaze falling to our hands in the center of the table.
Taylor walked in, his hands in his jeans pockets. “He’s okay. He’s packing. You should get to packing too, baby girl.”
Hadley hopped up from the table and hurried toward her room, stopping long enough to throw her arms around Taylor’s waist. He pulled her in tight and then let her go, watching me rest my chin on the heel of my hand.
“They’ve hated me since we left. It’s been tense,” I said.
“They could never hate you.”
“You don’t know that,” I said.
“Yes, I do.” He stared at me for a moment, neither one of us saying a word. I swallowed, knowing that we still loved each other, but also sure that I wasn’t ready to move forward together. It was a fine line—being cautious, so I didn’t make a bad decision based on emotion and holding out just to further punish him. “C’mon,” Taylor said. “We’ll start in your room.” He held his hand out to me, and I hesitated. He pulled back, returning it to the pocket it was in. “I get it, you know. The kids don’t, but I do. They don’t know what happened. They don’t know I deserve this.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“They don’t deserve this, though. We’re better than this, Falyn.”
“Taylor, don’t.” I stood, walking past him. He gently caught my arm, and it took all of my strength not to fall into him. I’d missed his touch, being so close to him, hearing his voice in the same room, watching him watch me.
“I still love you,” he said, anger on the edge of his words. I couldn’t blame him. Our family was broken, and our children were hurting.
“I know,” I said. My resentment wouldn’t let me say anything else, and I pulled away from him to walk to the end of the hall.
Taylor gathered a few boxes, taped them together for the kids, and then returned, helping me to load my things into the cardboard. We gathered socks from the drawers and shoes and Halloween buckets from the top of the closet. I’d missed how tall Taylor was, too. He could reach everything I couldn’t. He could lift and open everything I couldn’t and sometimes, even if I could, just so I could watch him do it.
“I still love you, too,” I said. Taylor turned around, an indistinguishable expression on his face. “And I miss you. Maybe the kids are smarter than I am on this one. Maybe we should try to fix this from the inside out instead of hurting the kids while I pretend to wait for an epiphany.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Hoping for a sign that I’ve changed?” He took a step toward me, dropping everything in his hands. “Because baby, I’ve changed. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose the kids. I—”
My phone buzzed, cutting him off. I looked around, touching my jeans pockets. It buzzed again, and Taylor pointed at the stack of towels.
“It’s coming from there,” he said, stepping toward the bed. “It’s late. Think it’s Ellie?”
“Oh, yeah. I—” Oh. Fuck.
Before I could stop him, Taylor lifted the towels and picked up my phone, his face instantly twisting into disgust. “Why the fuck is Peter Lacy calling you? How does he have your number, Falyn?”
“I don’t know,” I said, reaching for my phone. “It doesn’t matter. I never respond.”
Recognition lit Taylor’s eyes, and he became angrier. “How many times has he contacted you? What the fuck, Falyn? Is this why you want to move back?”
My mouth fell open. “No! And he hasn’t contacted me at all because I don’t answer!”
“How did he get your fucking number?” Taylor screamed. His veins were bulging from his neck, his eyes practically glowing and wild. His chest was heaving, and I could see the restraint. He wanted to punch something or someone. If Peter had been there, he might have killed him. I remembered now. The man standing in front of me now was the Taylor I left.
My eyes fell to the floor. The hope I’d had just moments before gone. When I looked up again, and Taylor’s eyes met mine, I could see the anger melt away and shame take over. Even then, he couldn’t let go. He picked up the stack of towels and shoved them into the box on top of some trinkets, ripping at the tape and slamming it across the top. He grabbed a thick black marker and wrote master across the top and then hurled the box into the corner of the room behind the door, its contents scattering.