Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

“Tris—”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to hear your son screaming for his mom during the night? To be so scared of the dark that he has to sleep with countless nightlights on, knowing there’s nothing you can do to help him?”

“Tris, I’m not talking about the kids—”

I take a step forward, toe to toe with him now as I grind out, “Do you have any idea what it’s like to look into your daughter’s eyes and see your dead wife? Do you? Huh?”

The tense atmosphere wraps around us as we stare each other down, both of our chests heaving.

“Do you think you’re the only one grieving?” he thunders. “She was my family too, just like those kids are. Yet you won’t even talk about their mom.”

“Because I fucking can’t!” I choke on the sob that bubbles up, a giant ball lodging in my throat as I squeeze my eyes shut. “I can’t talk about her,” I whisper.

I feel his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “You have to, not for you, but for those two little humans who need to know all about her.” I open my eyes, trying to hold back the traitorous tears. “Clay may think he remembers her, but he doesn’t. He remembers the idea of her. And Izzie? She never met her and yet you won’t tell them what they need to know.” His words hit me like a ten-ton brick in the chest, making me stumble back. “I can’t—”

“They need to know about her: the way she danced, the way she sang to Clay, the way she would read Izzie princess books while she was pregnant.” He pauses for a beat. “Did you not see the way that Izzie’s eyes lit up when I talked about Natalia dancing?”

Truth be told, I didn’t, I was too wrapped up in my own mind, struggling with the memories. A muscle in my jaw ticks at his words because he’s right, but it still wasn’t his place to say anything to Izzie about her.

“They need to talk about her, Tris. You’re acting as if she never existed.”

I’ve been so good at pushing it all aside, not wanting to entertain even the smallest thought about her that I’ve forgot all about the good times. There were many; that was the thing with Nat and me, we had the same sense of humor and loved to laugh.

Closing my eyes, my world spins as I start to realize that I’m the only one who can tell the kids about their mom; the only one who can explain how much she loved them.

“Come on,” Nate says slapping my shoulder gently. “You need an afternoon off, let’s go and have a drink.”

I shake my head, pulling back from him as the anger comes back to the surface and my eyes clash with his. “No… I told you, I’m busy.”

“The hell you are.” He shakes his head. “Get your fucking shit and let’s go.” My eyes widen as I stare at him walking toward the door and holding it open. “I’m not asking you to do this for me.” He pauses for a beat before saying, “Do it for the kids.”

My chest heaves as I try to catch a breath, staring into his eyes and seeing the concern shining through them. Finally relenting, I nod solemnly, not able to say another thing as I follow him out of my office, my head stuck inside those

memories; the good ones.

I lift my head as Nate comes to a stop, seeing my house and only now realizing that I’ve been stuck inside my head since I left my office.

“What are we doing here?” I ask, spotting several other cars in the driveway as I push out of his car and slam the door.

“Listen, Tris, we thought—”

“Tristan!”

My head whips around to the front door, seeing my mom standing there with a huge smile on her face. What the hell is going on here?

“Is that Daddy?” My muscles tense and my back straightens at the sound of Izzie’s voice; she should still be in school for another hour.

“Izzie?” I ask as I step forward, opening my arms for her as she runs at me.

“Nana came and gotted me and Clay from school and we’re having burgers.” She wriggles out of my arms and grabs my hand. “Come on, Daddy.”

I turn my head, first looking at Nate and then at my mom, seeing the knowing look in their eyes. They’ve been working together and set me up.

I tamp down the anger and let Izzie pull me through the house and out into the backyard. I scan the area, seeing that most of the stuff for a cookout is already set up on the table that Clay, Amelia, and Edward sit around.

“I need to go and get changed,” I tell Izzie, letting go of her hand. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

She nods her head at me before skipping over to Amelia and sitting next to her.