She made a face, then swallowed the medicine.
“You’re next, Ben.” He took the medicine like a champ and then curled up next to Colby, his head resting against her shoulder.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. How many nights had Brooks and Monica done exactly this? Lain down with their kids, cuddled them. And in any of those times had they ever thought that one day they’d just disappear?
With a sigh, I set the medicine down, ready to lie next to Viera, only to have her shake her head. “No, you needs to be in the middle, that’s how we always laid in the bed.”
Grief tugged at my heart as I crawled over her and then pulled her into my arms.
Colby sighed next to me as Ben clung to her. Soon both kids were asleep, and Colby and I were lying next to one another, staring up at the dimmed lights, sandwiched between the kids.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Colby whispered, reading my mind as I tried to fight back the tears that were always threatening, along with the tight feeling in my throat that refused to go away.
I knew the minute I grieved, it would make this real.
For weeks now I’d almost made myself believe that Monica and Brooks would walk back through that door. For once I wanted to be more like Colby, believing that we’d see them again someday, that there was a place for good people in the afterlife, and that they were together watching over us.
Finally I cleared my throat and answered, “I know.”
“I miss them.”
I didn’t trust my voice, so instead of telling her I missed them too, I inched my hand across the duvet and grasped her fingertips.
She squeezed my hand back and held it until her breathing became heavy. I turned then, stealing a glance at this all-over-the-place woman who loved these kids with the same ferocity I did.
Colby was frowning in her sleep, her lips slightly parted as if even in her sleep she was ready to talk my ear off or argue. She made a funny noise and then let out a snore, ruining the moment, or maybe just making it more real.
This was my reality now.
Two kids.
A house in the suburbs.
And a confusing, chaotic woman whom I argued with daily. I almost laughed when I realized that was how the majority of people would describe marriage after ten years.
We’d just skipped a few steps, hadn’t we?