7. Sloane
Sloane
I turn in a slow circle in the middle of my bedroom, rethinking every decision I’ve ever made. Today is move-in day, and I still haven’t broken the news to T.J.
I’m afraid of getting his hopes up. What happens if he thinks this means we’ll be one happy family again?
Do I tell him that I’m moving into the apartment so his dad can save the business? Should I prepare him now for the inevitable? That we’ll eventually go our separate ways?
What I won’t mention for now is the baby. I’m still in the first trimester, and because of my age, as well as the complications I experienced during my first pregnancy, I can’t help but worry.
With a deep breath in, I shake the thoughts from my head. Instead, I remind myself of how fortunate I am to have T.J.
As the only child of two career-driven people, I was often forgotten about.
An afterthought. And I vowed from an early age that I would never treat my child that way.
It’s why I wanted another baby so badly.
So he’d never experience the loneliness that was my reality as a child.
I wanted him to have the kind of sibling bond that Cal and Sully have.
Sully was uninterested, not only because T.J.
was a difficult baby, but because my pregnancy was almost as hard on him as it was on me.
He missed a lot of work while I was on bed rest, and when he was working to make partner not long after T.J.
was born, that kind of time off could have been detrimental to his career.
Through it all, my longing for another child never waned.
And now here we are.
Maybe the circumstances aren’t the greatest, but I can’t help but be thrilled to add to my little family.
And though I have to move into the disgusting apartment in Jersey, at least I’ll be living with my best friend. Lo will help me get through this.
One of the most difficult parts of separating from Sully was losing her, Cal, and Brian. Sure, they’re still my friends, but because they work with Sully, by default, he got custody of them.
I was a lonely child, though it wasn’t until law school that I realized just how isolated I’d been my whole life.
The bond Brian and Sully shared opened my eyes to what I’d been missing out on.
And when I went home with Sully that first holiday and met Cal?
My mind was blown. I’d never been part of a boisterous family event.
I’d never heard such laughter and teasing.
My parents, Roger and Beverly O’Malley, are the definition of serious.
Dinners were quiet affairs, the silence interrupted only by the clinking of silverware and the subdued conversation of the adults.
Because in our home, children were meant to be seen, not heard.
Once I was old enough to hold a conversation that interested them, they used family meals as a way to foster debates.
My parents would give me a topic, and I’d have to argue both sides.
It was riveting, as one can imagine.
But I’d prefer that kind of interaction at dinner over the nights I spent waiting for Sully.
Night after night, I’d make dinner, set the table, get myself dressed, and wait for him to get home.
On the days that I didn’t go to the office, it was the only adult interaction I’d have, and I longed for it.
But after months of blowing out the candles and going to bed without my husband, I stopped trying.
Experiencing one of those nights was heartbreaking enough. Suffering through it for months on end killed something inside me.
Sully feels like the divorce came out of left field, and in truth, I can’t connect my decision to ask him to move out with one specific moment.
There was no knockdown, drag-out fight. Instead, it was one tiny moment built on top of another and another that led to a resentment I could no longer push down and a loneliness that swallowed me whole.
Last April, he made it home for dinner, which hadn’t happened in months. The entire time, we sat across from one another in silence. It wasn’t until we were almost finished that T.J. piped up and asked why everyone was so quiet.
Sully was reading over a case file and I’d probably been staring into space. It hit me then that my child was living my childhood. A childhood I wouldn’t wish on even my worst enemy.
I panicked. And I realized I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. I couldn’t live like that for another second.
“Ready?” T.J. asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
Not really, but it’s now or never.
So I turn around and assess my son. He’s dressed for school, with his backpack secured over his shoulders. His big blue eyes, the same shade as his dad’s, see more than we give him credit for.
“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you for a second before we go.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, he bounces on his toes. T.J. is a doer. He’s always moving. Standing in one place and listening can be a challenge. So when he shakes his hips back and forth and giggles, all I can do is smile. “Sure.”
“Remember when you asked about moving in with Uncle Cal, Uncle Brian and Dad while they live in Jersey?”
T.J. nods, his hair falling across his forehead.
“Is that something you’d still like?”
“Yes,” he practically screeches, bouncing around in a circle .
My heart aches in the best and worst way. He’s so excited, yet the idea of leaving this place is painful.
I clear my throat and wait for him to settle again. “Would it be okay if I came too? I think I’ll miss you too much if you go without me.”
T.J. scans the room rather than looking at me. “Sure.”
I close my eyes and shake my head at his indifference. My feelings aren’t actually hurt, because come bedtime, he’ll be thankful I’m there. Bedtime has always been special for us, and since Sully moved out and T.J. has spent weekends with him, it’s been hard on us both.
“Hey,” I say, snagging his attention. “Do you have any questions for me?”
Head tilted, he presses his lips together, like he’s really thinking hard. I worry constantly about the damage we’re doing to him by splitting up. It was the right thing to do. I have no doubt. I was miserable and I couldn’t stand the idea that T.J. could pick up on the tension and resentment.
With any luck, he hasn’t sensed the underlying turmoil. I’m heartbroken enough for the both of us as it is. I just want good things for my son.
“Is cat poop poisonous?” he finally asks, catching me off guard. “Because Simon at school said it is, but Fuzzy’s poop isn’t poisonous, right?”
Poop . That’s what he was contemplating all that time.
I bite back a laugh and shake my head. “Let’s just stay away from poop in general, bud.” I brush his hair back from his face. “Is there anything else you want to bring to your dad’s?”
Before I’ve finished the sentence, he’s darting out the door, yelling a no over his shoulder.
I wince. I think that conversation went okay.
Hopefully, the move goes as smoothly.
—
“Thanks, guys,” I say as Sully, Brian, and Cal appear in the doorway, each carrying a suitcase.
Sully ordered me to sit here on the couch while they collected my things from the car Sully ordered.
My reply? Right, because the incubator has one job. You guys can handle the rest .
Cal winced, Sully sighed, and Brian shook his head. Lo just smiled at me knowingly. Thankfully, she gets my sarcastic sense of humor. If not, she’d surely think I was a bitch. Maybe I am a bitch. I don’t like myself very much lately, but once again, I blame my husband for that.
“This is all you have?” Sully glares down at the three suitcases.
I nod.
He drags a hand down his face. “You used to travel to Florida with more than this.”
My death glare is strong this afternoon. I went into the office for a bit this morning, but I wanted to get our stuff situated here before Cal picks T.J. and Murphy up from school, so I took the afternoon off.
“I traveled with three suitcases because I was packing for our family, Sully. The Sully and Mike monsters T.J. couldn’t go anywhere without took up an entire bag. Snacks from his approved list, bottles, diapers, extra changes of clothes. And don’t forget that I packed all of your things too.”
The room goes deathly silent.
Shoulders slumping, Sully gives me a sheepish frown. “I just mean you have more stuff than this. A penthouse full.”
Why must this man insist on having this conversation in front of our friends? I don’t want to fight, but he never stops pushing.
“Listen, I’ve agreed to this little arrangement because it’s what’s best for T.J.
You need this firm and he needs a father who isn’t miserable.
But make no mistake: I’m not here for you.
My stuff is in New York because T.J. and the baby and I will return to the penthouse when you complete this insane trust provision. Then we can all move on.”
“It’s also what’s best for you,” he says, like the man can’t help but pick a fight. I arch a brow, allowing him to dig himself a little deeper. It’s more fun this way. “You’re pregnant?—”
I slap my cheeks and widen my eyes. “I am?”
His face reddens, a sure sign that he’s lost hold of any vestige of patience. “For fuck’s sake, Sloane. Could we have one rational conversation?”
Beside me, Lo sucks in a breath. Brian subtly turns, surveying the room rather than looking at either of us. Cal grimaces, but he keeps his mouth shut.
I’m not surprised by Sully’s outburst. It’s par for the course, honestly. If he doesn’t get his way, he loses it.
And I don’t have the bandwidth to put up with it. We have a child who acts the same way, who’s too young to have a handle on his emotions and reactions. That I can handle. But I refuse to let a grown man who should know better behave that way.