30. Chapter 30 #2
We’re a loving family. We say, “I love you.” Mom’s always the first to give hugs, while Dad hugs my sister and offers me a handshake or a nod. I haven’t been hugged by him in what feels like forever, but the symbolism of this hug isn’t lost on me.
“I promise you this—they’re both ours now, too,” he whispers near my ear. “I’ll protect them, love them, and spoil your daughter rotten.”
I give a half-laugh that cracks into a choked sob. He doesn’t flinch at the display of my emotions, but hugs me tighter.
I never realized how much I needed to hear those words from him.
I’m snapped back to the present, the four of us sitting around the table as Lennon lounges in her bouncer.
“You still planning on hosting the big Thanksgiving dinner?” I ask Mom, already knowing the answer.
“Of course,” she says, her body lighting up. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
She launches into details about opening her home to the football staff who can’t go home for the holidays. She knows she needs to cater more, but she loves cooking for large groups. Dad grumbles about how many turkeys he has to help prepare.
“Will you two be there?” She glances between Sav and me. “Savannah, do you do anything special with your parents?”
Sav’s eyes widen slightly before going back to normal.
It was such a quick movement; I doubt my parents saw it, but I didn’t miss it.
She offers my mom a polite smile. “We’ll be there.
” Her words are soft, and she doesn’t elaborate on her parents' situation.
Eyes distant and unfocused, she glances down at her plate.
My wife is here, but not really.
I notice the half-eaten chicken and mashed potatoes on her plate. The way her shoulders stay tense. Something knots inside me.
Idle chatter fills the table as we all finish our dinner. Wiping my face, I stand from my seat, gathering my dishes. “Let me clean up. Mom, why don’t you and Savvy take Lennon for a walk? The neighborhood always looks nice this time of night.”
Mom’s face brightens as I try to sell the idea to both of them. “Sounds wonderful.”
I follow the women inside with a stack of dirty dishes. Sav pulls out her baby carrier from the diaper bag and straps Lennon to her chest. Dad and I kiss our women goodbye as they step outside for their walk. I turn to the pile of dishes, but my mind stays on Savvy.
Something’s off, and I’m not letting her slip through the cracks alone.
“Need a hand?” Dad asks, already grabbing a dish towel from the drawer.
“Sure.” I hand him a pot.
We fall into a rhythm—scrape, wash, rinse, and dry. Neither of us says much as we work to clean the kitchen. A classic rock song plays faintly in the background. My parents always have a classic rock or country music station playing in their kitchen.
Once we finish, I wipe my hands dry on a towel as Dad nudges his head toward the couch. I follow him into the living room, taking a seat opposite him. The side that gives me the perfect view to watch for our women.
He lets the quiet settle around us before clearing his throat and shifting uncomfortably. “I didn’t say it at the hospital,” he starts. “Shit. I was trying to hold it together because seeing you with a baby in your arms… Fuck, Grant. I’m so proud of you, Son.”
My head whips in his direction as I swallow down an emotional lump, but I don’t say anything. I can’t find any words.
“You were made for this.” Dad continues. “For fatherhood and leadership.”
“I learned from the best.”
His lips twitch. “Maybe so, but you’re already doing a better job than I ever did. You love that girl undeniably. And you’re stepping up to raise a daughter whose own father wouldn’t step up. She’s going to grow up knowing how a father is supposed to treat his daughter.”
My eyes sting, and I glance away. No one prepares you to hear words that raw and honest. You hope the people you love the most admire you, but hearing it from your father? It’s like being awarded the highest medal in the world.
“I love you, Son.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
Movement from the window draws my attention. I watch as my mom brings Savannah in for a hug. When they pull away, I can see the redness in their eyes. They’ve both been crying, and the sight guts me.
Dad slaps my leg. “C’mon, let’s go help the ladies. I want to hold my girl before you two take off.”
As we stand and he walks toward the door, I take a deep breath, letting the sincerity of our conversation sink in.
The drive home is quiet.
Sav’s head leans against the window, lost in thought.
Our daughter is out cold in her car seat.
There’s a new CTU onesie on the seat beside her, a gift from my dad.
My parents are going to have to make room at their house for the three of us to move in.
I don’t think Lennon’s closet will be able to hold all the clothes they keep buying her.
Maybe that’s what I need to start looking for, a house for us to call home. We can’t stay in the apartment forever. Besides, I’m ready to settle down with a mortgage and a place to call our own.
As we pull into the apartment complex, the lights from the streetlamps cast long shadows across the lot. My wife’s expression has shifted into a numbed state, and I hate it. She reaches for her seat belt, and I place a gentle touch on her hand.
“I’ll feed Lennon and get her down. Why don’t you go take a long, hot shower?”
She nods.
“You okay, Peach?”
She nods again.
By the time I get Lennon out, Sav’s ahead of us in a zombie-like state. I watch her shoulders droop and how she crosses her arms tightly across her chest, almost as if she’s anchoring herself.
Savannah heads straight to the bathroom without a word.
I place the car seat on the island countertop and quickly make a bottle.
Then I go through Lennon’s nighttime routine—fresh diaper, clean pajamas, a warm bottle, singing a lullaby before laying her in her bassinet. With Lennon down, I look for my wife.
The shower is still running, raising my hackles.
Something is off. I crack the door quietly and push it open, not wanting to startle her.
But the sounds coming from the shower halt my movements.
Heart aching, I follow her sobs and push open the curtain.
She’s sitting on the shower floor, knees pulled to her chest, water cascading down on her as her shoulders shake.
The sight of my wife hurting nearly brings me to my knees.
I dig out my phone, wallet, and keys, tossing them aside as I take off my shoes.
Without hesitating, I climb into the shower.
Cold water hits my back, and I shudder. Savannah has been on the floor for so long that the water has run cold and is drenching her body.
I flick the water off and wrap my arms around her.
She startles at the contact, completely unaware of my presence.
“Peach, baby, talk to me.”
“Sorry.” Her voice breaks. “I just…needed a minute.”
Holding her in my arms, I reach for the folded towel she left on the floor. I wrap the fluffy material around her shivering body. “C’mere,” I murmur.
Her body doesn’t have the will to fight me as I lift her into my arms and carry her to our bedroom. I lay her down on the comforter, drying her off slowly before sliding one of my sweatshirts over her head.
“You don’t have to fuss over me,” she mumbles as I strip out of my wet clothes.
“I’m not fussing. I’m worried.” I slip on a pair of dry boxers.
She scoots higher up the bed, bringing her knees to her chest like I found her in the shower. “I don’t even know why I’m crying.” She wipes her tears. “I’m fine.”
“Baby, stop lying to me. You don’t have to be strong in front of me.”
“I just…” Emotionless, red-rimmed blue eyes stare at me.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t explain this feeling.
It’s like I’m being buried alive and gasping for air.
It doesn’t make sense, though. I should feel lucky.
Lennon is perfect, and you’re amazing. I keep trying to put on a smile so I don’t ruin this for you. ”
I climb onto the bed, putting my legs on each side of her so we’re facing each other as I grip her face. “Stop carrying the load solely on your shoulders. I’m your partner. In marriage, in fatherhood, in sickness and health.”
Tears stream down her face, and I wipe them away with my thumb.
“I’m scared,” she admits. “What if this is who I am now? The woman who’s constantly telling the voices in her head to shut up. The woman who never feels like she’s good enough. What if, one day, I snap, and you and Lennon are caught in the crossfire?”
I pull her into my chest, maneuvering our bodies so it’s not so awkward.
She climbs into my lap, and I hold her as if I’m breathing new life into her.
Like I’m shielding her from the mental battle she’s been facing alone.
It makes me feel like shit to know she’s been hurting this much.
I knew something was wrong, but I gave her space.
I didn’t want to smother her, but she was suffocating herself.
“You’re not going to hurt us, Savannah. Parenthood is so fucking hard, but we’re going to get through this together. I promise you.”
She nods against my chest. “Can you just hold me?”
“For the rest of our lives.”
Somehow, I lift her, going on my knees and moving us. I pull away the covers, and we slide underneath the sheets. My arms wrap tightly around her as her face presses against my bare chest. I feel her tears drenching me, and I hate that she’s crying. I hate that I can’t take her pain away.
It feels like my heart is breaking, but this moment isn’t about me.
It’s about my wife.