I fucking hate it.
I want her to stay.
I too decided to let my crew handle things this week. We’ve spent all week together, the three of us, soaking up as much time as we can. We don’t talk about it, but we both know that’s what’s happening.
Lexi is asleep in her pack-n-play while McKinley and I are curled up on the couch watching television. Well, it’s on, but I’m not paying much attention. The doorbell rings and she sits up. “I’ll get it,” she says so quiet I barely hear her.
I turn off the television and stand. I hear Lexi greet Mrs. Allan, the social worker. Their voices grow louder as they move down the hall.
“Mrs. Allan,” I say, offering her my hand, and she takes it.
“Mr. Chamberlin.” She looks over my shoulder and sees Lexi asleep. “She’s such a good baby,” she comments.
“She is.” McKinley steps beside me and wraps her arms around my waist.
“Well, I’ll make this quick. My department is closing its case. We’ve found nothing that would make us think the two of you are anything but good, capable parents. I just need you to sign off on this document stating that and I will be on my way.”
She pulls out the papers, tells us where to sign, and shakes our hands. “I’m sorry for what you went through. You have a lovely family.”
Just like that, it’s over. There is no threat of my daughter being taken from me. Instead, I’m losing my wife.
McKinley sits on the couch and curls her legs up underneath of her. “It’s over, Evan. I’m so happy for you,” she says with tears in her eyes. “You never have to worry about anyone taking her again.”
“Thank you for what you did for us.”
“You’re welcome. I guess I should start packing, huh?”
“No,” I say firmly. “I don’t want you to leave. I need you here.”
She’s quiet for several minutes before she replies. “No, you don’t. You’re a great father. You know what you’re doing. You don’t need me anymore.”
“I do need you. I can’t do this on my own,” I tell her.
She smiles through tears. “Yes, you can, Evan. You don’t need me. I’m still going to come and visit. Mom and I are still going to watch her for you. I love that little girl. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”
“What about me?” I ask her. “You love my daughter, but what about me?”
The dam finally breaks as the tears fall over her cheeks. “Of course I love you. We’ve been through so much over the last year, but it’s time for me to go.”
“You can’t go. I need you,” I say again.
“No, you don’t. I’m going to go pack a few things and spend the night at Mom and Dad’s. The sooner I start this transition, the better.”
Her words cut through me. I was just about to tell her how much I love her, but she doesn’t love me like that. She cares about me and this is sad for her, but it’s not tearing her heart out of her chest like it is mine.
I don’t say anything. I can’t even look at her for fear I will drop to my knees and beg her to stay, beg her to live the rest of her life with us. She stands from the couch and I turn my head. I listen as her footsteps disappear up the stairs. My blurry gaze locks on Lexington and my chest aches for my little girl. She loves McKinley just as much as I do, and she’s leaving. It doesn’t matter what I say . . . she’s ending this. I knew it would happen, but I didn’t know it would feel like this—like I can’t breathe, like my heart is physically broken into pieces.
I don’t even know how much time passes when she stops in front of me. “I’m leaving. I’ll be back off and on over the next few days to move the rest of my stuff.” I still don’t look at her. “Please give her a hug and a kiss for me when you tuck her in tonight.” Her voice breaks, but I still refuse to look at her.
I can’t.
“Goodbye,” she whispers.
I can’t breathe. Luckily, the drive to my parents’ house is less than five minutes, because I can’t see.
When I pull into the drive, Aaron and my parents are sitting on the front porch. One look at me and they know something’s not right.
“What happened? Are Evan and Lexi okay?” Aaron asks, meeting me at the bottom step.