Genevieve #2
I’d finished putting both kids down before trekking over to the guest bedroom.
I sat at the edge of the bed in silence for hours before inevitably crawling into bed and staring up at the ceiling until morning.
Four days passed like that. Maybe five. I moved through the house the way I always did, following the routine I’d built, hiding away so I wasn’t seen.
In the midst of it all, I was stuck in my head.
Gregory had frozen my accounts. Alex had told me that weeks ago.
My name had been quietly scrubbed from press releases, from the Newman Trust public record, from anything that would give me leverage.
I had no money that wasn’t his. No documentation that wasn’t tied to this house, this family, this once perfect life we’d constructed.
If I disappeared, he’d call it abandonment, file for emergency custody within the week, and the kids would be his.
I couldn’t leave with them because I’d be considered reckless for traveling with children to go to a fugitive.
If I stayed… who knows how much more I’d be erased.
How I’d disappear and no one would even know I was gone.
In the midst of my spiraling, I’d called Alexander every hour on the hour. My calls had gone straight to voicemail every time. But I called non-stop for days straight. I wanted to at least know something, hear anything—but I got nothing.
One morning, however… I got a message from him: an airport destination hours away from here in another state, and a time of departure. I stared at it for a long time, trying to make sense of it. It could’ve been meant for someone else entirely. There was no explanation or context at all…
I tried to message Alexander back immediately. The message didn’t deliver. I called, straight to a disconnected tone. I tried again.
Nothing.
He’d cut the line the moment it left his hands. Whatever this was, he was already pretending he never sent it.
This could have been nothing, could have been an accident—but for some reason… it felt like my last chance.
I didn’t sleep that night.
I just lay in bed until the house went quiet. Gregory’s light finally went off down the hall. The only sounds left were Brielle’s monitor beside me.
Somewhere around midnight I got up, got dressed, and told myself I was just going to see. Just going to drive… to find out what was at the random airport in the middle of nowhere before I talked myself out of it forever.
I told myself it wasn’t a decision yet.
But my hands were already shaking when I reached for my jacket.
I’d be back. I… I’d come back.
My hands shook as I crept down the hallway, jacket clenched in one fist, keys digging into my palm. Every step felt like it scraped the floorboards raw.
I stopped outside Eugene’s room.
Just… just one more kiss goodnight.
I pushed the door open an inch. Moonlight spilled over him as he lay sprawled sideways across the bed like he’d fallen asleep mid-thought. His cheek was squished against the pillow, his little fist curled near his mouth as he drooled.
My throat closed.
I walked to him on unsteady feet, leaned down, and pressed a trembling kiss to his forehead.
His hair was warm, soft like always. He smelled like baby shampoo and the lavender spray Cara used.
My tears hit the pillow before I could stop them.
I needed to remember this. I needed to memorize him, but I couldn’t stay there forever.
“I love you, Lovebug,” I whispered into his skin. “Always.”
I didn’t let myself linger. If I did, I’d never get out of this room.
I straightened, biting the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood, and slipped out before he could stir.
The nursery was next. Brielle slept curled like a little doll, her tiny chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. Her little fingers twitched from whatever dream she was having and my legs nearly gave out.
I gripped the crib rail to stay upright, shaking so badly it rattled the wood. My mouth fell open in a silent sob, shoulders folding inward. I pressed my forehead to the rail.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed. “I’m so, so sorry.”
I didn’t pick her up.
If I held her… I would never put her down again. Instead, I forced myself to step back, wiping my face with a hand that barely functioned anymore.
Jacket over my arm. Keys slipping in my grip. Heels clicking softly against the floor. I made it to the stairs… Down them, across the foyer. I didn’t dare look back.
The front door was right there.
I… I’d come back, right?
I was almost free. Almost gone. I could do this. I—I can do this.
My hand touched the doorknob, the voices in my head fighting to leave, fighting to stay, reminding me it wasn’t a final decision, telling me this was my last one. That I’d come back… that I actually wouldn’t.
My body was shaking so violently I thought my knees would give out again. My breath was coming in short, panicked bursts. Every part of me screamed, Stop, turn around, go back upstairs, don’t do this, don’t leave them—
And then—
“Mom?”
The tiny voice broke something inside me and I turned abruptly.
Eugene stood at the bottom of the staircase, small and sleepy in his mismatched pajamas, hair tousled, eyes glassy with exhaustion… and something else.
Fear.
Time seemed to freeze between us, the sight of him blurry and clear all at once as my tears never stopped. His gaze drifted from my tear-stained face… to the jacket… to the keys… back to me.
“…Hi, Lovebug,” I whispered, voice breaking in half.
He just stared at me. “Where are you going?” he asked softly.
The question felt like a knife twisting in my heart. My lips trembled. “…Mom is just gonna go grab something… I’ll be right back,” I whispered.
He blinked slow, disbelieving. He was too young to understand everything, but old enough to recognize a lie.
“When?” he breathed.
My chest collapsed. “Soon,” I managed. “Soon, baby.”
His chin wobbled, tears flooding his big blue-green eyes. And then, in the smallest, most timid and afraid voice I’d ever heard from him: “…Can… can I have a hug before you go?”
Before I could even stop myself, I dropped to my knees, my arms instinctively opening for him one last time.
He ran to me, throwing himself into my arms with more force than his little body should’ve had. His arms clung around my neck, desperate, shaking. I held him so tight I was afraid I’d bruise him, my face buried in his shoulder as sobs tore silently out of me.
“I—I don’t want you to go,” he hiccuped, his little body shaking, trembling as I held him close to me.
God, I didn’t want to let go.
“I’ll come back, Lovebug,” I whispered into his hair. “Always. I promise. Dad will be with you. You won’t be alone.”
His fingers fisted in my shirt. “I want you to be with me,” he cried.
My soul broke clean in two. “I know, baby,” I choked out. “I know.”
For a moment… I nearly stayed. In that second, love outweighed everything else.
But then the weight of the keys in my hand, the decision I’d silently made to leave in the first place reminded me: If I didn’t go now… I’d never go at all.
I kissed his forehead again, tasting his tears and mine mingled, my lips lingering on him one last time.
“I love you,” I whispered. “So much.”
Then slowly, painfully, I pried his little arms off my neck. He watched me stand as I wiped my face and turned to the door.
And he whispered, barely audible—
“…Mom?”
My hand froze on the doorknob. But I didn’t turn around.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t.
If I did…I’d never walk away.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t… do this…
My hand froze on the door knob, my mind racing at the thought of taking them with me, at the thought of them forcibly having to go back to Gregory anyway in the end, of me staying and enduring the same longing, the same pain Jamie did until this family, this sickness eventually killed me too.
And I almost decided to stay. Almost threw the entire plan away, the plan I’d thought of for the last eighteen hours on no sleep—my entire freedom, my happiness, the love of my life—when I felt my little boy hug my legs from behind, tears leaking into my jeans. “…I love you too, Mom.”
He pulled away. And in that moment, I felt strong enough to open the door, strong enough to step out into the night—but I wasn’t strong enough to turn back.
I couldn’t.