“Papa hurt my feelings.” And he broke my trust, which broke my heart. And I didn’t know what to do.
I wasn’t sure what to do now.
I had no plan for what to do if I didn’t get to complete my plans. I had no plans for being stuck in the house while he went off, finishing my story for me.
I had seen it hundreds of times in movies. A strong woman breaking down and losing her mind because of a man. And each time I laughed or rolled my eyes, saying how could you not see it? Now it had happened to me, and still, I didn’t understand how I had gotten this deep. Everyone was laughing at me.
Inside of me burned as I thought of it.
“See what I got, Mommy,” Gigi said, sitting her brand-new electric toy Bentley with sunglasses, and in her passenger seat and backseat were Priscus and Verus, who enjoyed being driven around the room with her.
“I see. Papa got you a lot,” I whispered, looking at her whole room of Christmas presents. She’d gotten everything from clothes and dolls to toy cars, the other one being a Jeep, but her favorite had to be the fish aquarium Ethan had installed behind her bed, which caused the whole room to glow a soft blue.
I’d told him to wait with the damn fish, but he didn’t care about my voice or wants. He played me, and I…I let myself get played.
“Calliope?” The door opened as Evelyn came inside. “I thought you might be hungry.”
When she nodded, a maid walked behind her, holding a Christmas feast of food. The girl put it on the corner table in the room and quickly left.
“Thank you, Nana,” Gigi said, already driving forward.
“Gigi, this is for your mommy—”
“She can have it. I’m not hungry.”
Not sure, Gigi looked to me, and I forced myself to smile for her before nodding, telling her to eat.
“Go wash your hands first,” I directed.
“Right!” She backed up and made a U-turn—very well done, I might add for a six-year-old—before she drove into her bathroom.
“Don’t you think you should wash yours, too?” Evelyn asked, taking a seat at the foot of Gigi’s bed.
I didn’t understand what she meant until I looked down and saw my cut-up hands, which reeked of gasoline. I honestly hadn’t felt or smelled it until now.
“It’s not easy being Mrs. Callahan,” she said to me.
“Are you mocking me?” I asked.
“No, just talking to you.”
I didn’t say anything, so she went on.
“I don’t know your whole story, Calliope. I don’t even think I know even an eighth of it. All I know, all that matters, is that you are Mrs. Callahan now. And while you can take a moment to scream or cry, you can’t stay in despair. All that does is waste your time. Believe me, I know. One day I was Mrs. Callahan, then I lost myself to grief. When I woke up again, I had a few years left before some other woman was giving me orders, then another after her.”
The other being me, she meant.
“Ethan is going to live for a long time, so I’m sure I’m going to be here for a while.” Like a trapped bird with broken wings.
“Never be sure. A single moment can change everything,” she said with less steel and more pain in her voice. “But let’s hope he does manage live to be a 110 with you alongside him. Do you really think he wouldn’t step back for his son?”
“No. He’s too controlling. He’d be worse than his own parents at letting go. Why would it have to be a boy?” I asked, watching Gigi drive back to eat the food she had, her dogs waiting patiently for her to give them a piece of whatever she was eating.
“I don’t know why it has to be. That’s just how it’s been. Maybe Gigi will change that, or maybe your next one will keep it going.”
“What makes you think there is going to be a next one?” I didn’t even know if I had wanted to have one before.
“What makes you think there isn’t one right now?”