Yet she’d jumped at the chance to join him. All weekend long she’d been reeling with the facts. He’d called once, asked her to lunch to discuss business, but she’d made an excuse, and he hadn’t pushed.
Was he having second thoughts, too?
Were they back to him going and her being no part of his new life?
That thought brought back the incredible sadness she had felt at the mention of his moving.
The thought of opening a second daycare that far away brought panic. And no less desire to have her baby and get on with her life, either.
So what gave?
What was driving her?
Years of counseling and taking accountability for her own emotional health made her seek out the elusive answers.
Was she really in love with Braden still, as Tamara had said?
She had to ask.
And the answer was still the same. There was a bond there, of course. They’d been in love, had a child together and lost that child. But she didn’t think she was in love with him. Anytime she tried to get there she arrived right where they’d ended—at complete odds with each other, letting each other down emotionally.
She still felt ashamed at how wild she’d been in his arms at the same time her son had died.
Still hated that she’d been away from home.
After four years it was a pretty good bet that those feelings weren’t going to go away.
As night gave way to day, she got up, showered, got herself to work and greeted her children. Her days were about them, fully and completely. And yet, on Monday she was stopped in her tracks by an expression on the precious face of one of her four-year-olds. Liam was precocious and about as happy as a little boy could be. He’d come up and offered her a picture he’d drawn of a heart and told her he loved her.
She could barely hold back her tears but she pulled it off for Liam. She hid her emotion in the hug she gave him, telling him she loved him, too, and escaped as quickly as she could.
Did Braden ever think about what Tucker would be like if he’d lived? Did he ever see a four-year-old boy and wonder if Tucker would have been like him?
Her thoughts from the night before were there again, in the middle of her day. She had to tell Braden she couldn’t accept his L.A. offer. She had to let him go.
She took a couple of minutes locked in her private bathroom to let the tears flow.
* * *
After having a weekend to think about it, Braden was looking forward to the idea of Mallory’s daycare in L.A. He couldn’t envision how it would work exactly, but he had a few ideas to run by her, ways she could manage her business, expand her business and have the life she wanted, as well. By Monday he was congratulating himself on coming up with the idea. The Bouncing Ball supported her comfortably, but with a baby to raise, the added security of a second business would further cultivate her emotional health.
Though there might be more on her plate on a day-to-day basis, at least at first, she’d have less to worry about in the big picture.
Mal had always been a big-picture girl. He’d been all about making the moment count. She’d been on the forever plan.
She didn’t have time to meet him for lunch on Monday, either, and because he was leaving Tuesday morning to head back to L.A., he waited for her after work. Nothing overt; he just watched from his window for her to be heading out to her car and then called her and asked her to wait a second.
She said she had to get home to return calls she’d promised would be made that day, but when he pushed, telling her he was heading out in the morning, she relented.
If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was avoiding him.
He shook his head at the thought. That was his sister’s way of thinking, not his. She built a mountain of drama out of putting imaginary negative thoughts about herself in other people’s heads. Mallory had no reason to avoid him. They’d established that neither of them had to worry about speaking with the other ever again.
No more hurt feelings or tense silences between them.
They weren’t married anymore. They couldn’t disapprove of each other’s plans, thoughts, wants or desires. It had been established the day they’d divorced. Right along with the fact that they’d always be friends and have each other’s backs. Or some such thing. He couldn’t remember the exact words that had been said, but the understanding had been there. They had three years of proof to substantiate it.
She was sitting in her car when he got downstairs.