If I Let You Go

He’d better get used to that.

“I didn’t really come back

for you,” I told him, with more honesty than I’d intended.

“I know. But I still appreciate it.”

“Well, you’re welcome. Do you want a beer?”

He shook his head. “I already had one. Best keep a clear head in case Tilly wakes up again.”

I took another drink, and Dominic said, “It was good of you to tell Tilly that we’ll talk about New York tomorrow. It’ll help her sleep. But you know it won’t change anything, don’t you?”

“Do I? You’re not going to listen to what she has to say?”

“Of course I will. But I can’t leave life-changing decisions to my five-year-old daughter.”

“Her age is irrelevant. Her feelings matter.”

“I’m not saying they don’t. I’m just saying this is going to happen. The plans have been made, I’ve bought an apartment, I’ve found a school for her. All we need to do is make the move.”

Anger began to rise in me again. All that planning, done in silence. Not a word to me, not even a sign that anything big was going to happen. He’d just come home every weekend and acted like everything was the same, when in reality, he’d been getting ready to turn Tilly’s life upside down for months.

“If you have something to say, I suggest you say it,” Dominic said. We wore matching expressions of annoyance, as if my own irritation was being reflected in him, bouncing between us like light off glass.

“Oh, I have plenty to say,” I told him, slamming my bottle down on the counter, “Starting with, why did you hide this for so long? Why didn’t you tell me, even if you weren’t ready to tell Tilly?”

“Because I didn’t want to tell you you might lose your job until I knew it was really going to happen.”

“You must have known before now. This didn’t all just tie up in the last few weeks.”

“No,” he admitted. “It didn’t. And you’re right, I should have told you earlier. But I didn’t … I didn’t know how to. Today, I just needed to get it out, because dragging it out all this time wasn’t fair, not on either of us.”

Damn him. He’d made me feel bad for him instead of giving me a reason to unleash my rage.

Don’t feel too sorry for him. He’s still got a lot of explaining to do.

“What will happen when you get there?” I asked. “Who will take care of Tilly while you’re at work?”

“I’ll hire another nanny.”

“Will you still have to go away all the time, or will being in New York mean you won’t have to go away as much?”

“I’ll still need to travel, mostly within America, though.”

“Oh, so you’re uprooting her to make your own life easier.”

Dominic glanced over his shoulder, down the hall towards Tilly’s room, then closed the kitchen door. “That’s not fair,” he said. “I’m doing it to make both of our lives easier. I won’t be away for as long, or as often. It means I’ll get to spend more time with her than I do now.”

“Yeah, maybe in the beginning! But just like when we moved here, you’ll end up working longer hours again, going away more and more, and she’ll have nobody!”

“She’ll still have me! And she’ll have someone new looking after her.”

Another stab hit me, in the chest this time, as I imagined someone else collecting her from school and hearing about her day. Someone different being there to wipe her tears, and protecting her from bad dreams.

It took the breath out of me, and I slumped onto a stool, resting my arm on the counter to prop up my head.

“Why didn’t you ask me to come?” I asked, weakly.