Chapter 22
Karissa
Cody moved back to his place six days ago.
After I had my postpartum appointment, they cleared me to resume everything as normal.
We always knew once I was cleared, he’d go back home.
Still, a small part of me almost wished they wouldn’t have cleared me.
Because honestly, now the silence feels louder than it should.
He’s stopped over briefly all week, but yesterday was the first day I didn’t see him. We talked, texted, but that was it. It’s been strange, being alone again. Strange not having him here. I got used to him, his presence, the way he stepped in to help before I had to ask.
I don’t even know what day it is. I’m tired. Physically, yes, but also mentally. Time feels almost fake and unnecessary.
The nights are rough—nursing, pumping, washing bottles and pump parts, doing laundry all by myself. I feel like a cow. A leaking, saggy-skinned, snack-hungry cow. Someone slap a tag in my ear and call it what it is already.
I lay down on the couch while Emma snoozes across the room in the swing, slowly gliding. The second I close my eyes, I hear crying.
My eyes snap open, only to find her fast asleep and still as a rock.
That’s been happening a lot. At night, usually. I’ll hear her crying, but when I look she’s not. It’s all in my head. Ella mentioned the other day about phantom crying, said it happens to her still.
I close my eyes. Same thing again—phantom crying.
I sit up with a frustrated sigh. I can’t sleep with that in my ear…or mind. Wherever it is.
The Bible on the coffee table catches my eye. Haven’t opened it in a few days. Honestly, haven’t wanted to. Not when I’m in this funk.
They made me fill out some paper at my appointment. Asking me questions like “Have you felt anxious or worried for no good reason?” and “Have you been so unhappy that you have been crying?”
Most of the answers to the questions were yes and I scored higher than your average person, I guess.
I didn’t tell Cody when I got home. I didn’t want him to worry. I think it’s just the stage of transition I’m wrestling with, and once Emma gets a little bigger, things will be better.
I flip open the Bible to a random page, hoping God speaks loud and clear this time.
He says, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”
“Okay…so…cool.” I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that.
My phone rings. It’s Cody.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hi. So it’s supposed to rain tomorrow. We were gonna work late tonight, but I can come down and let you shower if you want.”
“No. It’s fine.”
“You sure?”
I hear background noise fade, like he walked away from whoever he was near.
“Yeah.” I don’t mean to sound so short, but I do.
“You get to sleep at all or…” He tapers off.
“Nope.”
“Dang. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“It doesn’t seem fine,” he jokes gently, but I’m not in a joking mood.
“I’m just tired.”
“Yeah…maybe text my mom or Addison? They’d probably love to come help—”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s my baby. I’m supposed to take care of her.”
“And you are. But you also have to take care of yourself, Karissa.”
“Well—”
“You know what, I’ll come by in a half hour so you can shower, alright?”
“Sure.”
There’s silence, like he’s thinking of what to say, but I just want to get off the phone, honestly.
“I don’t like how you sound,” he adds.
“How do I sound?”
“You sound like something’s wrong…more than just tired.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, and I heard that before,” he claims just before we hang up.
I hear his truck pull in two hours later, and when he walks in, he scans the room first after he pulls off his boots.
His eyes land on my Bible, sitting beside me now. I picked it up again after we hung up, hoping something would resonate. It didn’t. I basically just stared at the words, asking God what he wanted me to read.
I motion toward it with a wave. “I don’t get it, Cody. I don’t understand what it’s saying. Half the words, the phrasing…none of it makes sense to me. I don’t get how Addison and Wesley do Bible studies every week. What are they reading? I just don’t get it!”
He blinks, one hand settling on his hip and the other rubbing the back of his neck.
“Can you show me what exactly you’re talking about?”
I flip to a random page because I genuinely can’t remember what verse I read earlier. “Here. It says, ‘Do not be overrighteous, neither be overwise—why destroy yourself?’”
I huff and look at him. “What does that even mean? Because I thought being righteous and wise was, you know…good? What am I supposed to do with that?”
He actually laughs a little and comes closer, towering beside me. “Let me see.”
I slide it across the counter, and he leans over it, his deodorant wafting over to me, like he just put more on. Or maybe it’s cologne? I’m not really sure. It smells a little too good to be plain old deodorant.
He flips through the pages. “Alright, this is Old Testament. Genesis through about here.” He points to a section of the Bible.
“All before Jesus was born. Still important, but I’d suggest starting in Matthew.
That’s where Jesus’s story begins. Birth, life, what he said, what he did.
You’ll probably connect more with that.”
“Okay.” I reach for it, but he stops me and pulls out the seat beside him. “Sit. I’ll get you started.”
“I can read, Cody. I just didn’t know where to.”
“I know. So sit. Let’s do it together.”
I hesitate but sit beside him, and for the next twenty minutes, he reads to me.
I interrupt a lot.
“So why would God tell them to go to Egypt if He was just going to send them to Israel instead?” I ask.
“Because it was the safest place for them at the time. God was protecting Jesus from Herod, and He knew exactly when it would be safe to go back. It also fulfilled a prophecy from the Old Testament if you go back in Hosea, I think it is.”
I nod slowly. Understanding. Finally. This is amazing.
We go like that for a few more minutes before he closes the Bible slowly and sets it between us.
“That’s probably a good place to stop for tonight,” he says quietly.
I nod. There’s a weird ache in my chest. Like I want to keep going but also can’t absorb another word. My mind’s exhausted, but in a good way.
“You okay?” he asks when I don’t say anything.
“Yeah. I’m just… Thank you. For not making me feel dumb.”
“You’re not dumb. You think I got all this figured out?” He shakes his head. “I don’t.”
My eyes drop to the Bible. “Well, you seem like you do.”
He lets out a short laugh. “That’s cause I’ve already wrestled with it. You’re just getting started.” He nudges me gently.
“Yeah.” I blink fast, trying not to cry. I wish I knew more, I wish I could wake up tomorrow and know everything and be confident in what’s wrong and right, but I’m not. I’m lost.
His voice softens. “Go take a shower, Karissa. And, seriously, take your time.”
I chew the inside of my cheek. “I don’t know why I’m so tired.”
“Perhaps the baby snoozing in the living room?” he suggests, and that earns him a laugh.
I look to Emma in the swing and then down at the counter, feeling the overwhelming sensation of tears build up again.
He touches my back, softly, fingers just grazing like he isn’t sure if it’ll send me over the edge or pull me back from it.
I meet his eyes and there’s nothing but sincerity staring back at me. No pity. No pressure. Just Cody.
“You’re doing a good job, Karissa.” His voice is low, almost whispering, and I break.
He’s out of his seat before I can even catch my breath. His arms are wrapped around my head, drowning me in more of that cologne that smells way too good.
“Nobody should have to do what you’re doing alone. Remember that,” he says.
I nod. My voice barely audible, I manage a “yeah.”
When he lets go, I’m quick to move along to the bathroom and shower, afraid if I stay where I’m at any longer I’ll confess something I shouldn’t…or kiss him.
When I come out, Emma’s awake and Cody’s holding her close. Her little hand is curled around his thumb while he talks to her in a low, hushed voice, as if she’s going to respond.
“She likes you,” I say softly, then slowly sit on the chair beside the couch.
“She better. I’ve been putting in the hours,” he jokes.
“You really have.”
He shifts her gently. “I can put her down if you want. She was just fussy and—”
“No. It’s fine. You don’t have to rush out.”
His shoulders relax and he continues to watch her.
In this moment, I can’t imagine a life without Cody in it.
And a thought hits me—that someday, once I figure out where I’m going, Emma might never know the man who held her for the first few hours of her life while her mom was unconscious.
The man who made sure I was okay before he even thought about himself.
The man who wiped away my tears and told me it would be okay on more than one occasion.
The man who showed up when he didn’t have to…
and stayed when it would’ve been easier to walk away.
“Alright, well,” Cody says, snapping me from my thoughts, “I should head out, though.”
I nod. “Thanks for coming over.”
He stands, his eyes lingering on Emma as he hands her to me carefully, like he doesn’t want to let her go yet.
“You call if you need anything else,” he says, his voice a little lower now. “Or…to talk. I’m just working up at Addison’s.”
Our fingers brush when I take Emma, and for a split second, neither of us moves. His gaze lifts to mine, steady, unreadable, but it’s there, that shift in the air again.
“I will,” I murmur.
He gives a small nod and turns for the door.
* * *
Cody asked if I wanted to go to church this morning but I said no. He didn’t argue, didn’t ask why, just said okay and left it at that.
I only said no because I’ve been sorta struggling trying to figure out this solo parenting thing. It’s a lot for me and I feel myself shutting down, and sometimes I swear it feels like the walls of this place are closing in on me.
This morning I pumped, washed the bottles and pump parts, tossed a load of laundry in, folded one from yesterday, and sat down to read my Bible. This time in Matthew, right where Cody left off with me yesterday.
I’m still going to the big house for lunch today. I’m excited to see everyone; it’s been nearly a week. Other than Maureen dropping off another casserole and Ella bringing over a bag of baby clothes Cora outgrew, I haven’t seen anyone.
The front door creaks open. Cody steps in slowly, scanning the room and offering a soft smile at me.
He looks good, as usual. A little too good, actually.
His button-down shirt is tucked in neatly, sleeves rolled just enough to show the tattoos on his forearms. There’s something about the way he carries himself—confident, steady.
I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that, I know. But it’s there and it’s hard to ignore.
“Ready?” he asks, just as I lay Emma in her car seat on the kitchen counter.
“Yup.” I click the buckle into place.
He observes for a second before laughing under his breath. “You know we’re just driving up the lane, right? You probably don’t need to buckle her in.”
I shoot him a look. “You never know.”
He stops smiling. “Fair point.”
I glance down at Emma, fully buckled and looking back at me, a plush animal rattle in her lap that she doesn’t do much with yet, but it’s there if she changes her mind.
Cody grabs the car seat for me. I take the diaper bag and we head outside. The sunlight hits like a spotlight.
“Hey—” I call after him, squinting against the light. “Put the hood up.”
He pauses, halfway to the truck. “Huh?”
“The canopy thing,” I say, waving my hand. “She’ll get sunburnt.”
He glances down at the seat like he’s offended on Emma’s behalf. “Sunburnt? She’s barely seen the sun for more than twelve seconds.”
“I don’t care,” I scoff.
He doesn’t argue, just pulls the canopy forward with one hand.
“She’s got my ex’s skin,” I say. “She’ll burn if you even mention UV rays to her.”
Cody just laughs and clicks the seat into the base, then attempts to hand the toy laying in her lap for her to hold. I can’t help but smile.