I run up the stairs to Bella’s room, hoping to catch her still awake, and hear my princess sobbing. I’m about to enter the room when I hear her hiccup out, “Mommy, it’s not fair! I miss him when he’s not home and he misses me. I have to go to school all day. I want to drop out of school and be a fighter like Daddy.”
Remember when I said my heart shattered the day she was in the hospital for smoke inhalation? I take that back. It must have been a mere fracture. What’s the difference? A fracture isn’t broken. It hurts like a bitch, but it’s still intact. A shatter on the other hand is a full-on break. Pieces are everywhere and there’s no way they’re ever being put back together again. I clutch my chest and try to stop the pain from radiating inside of me. If I never hear my daughter sobbing and crying out like that again, it’ll be too soon.
And what’s worse is that I’m the cause. I listen for a second to hear Liz’s reply. “Bella Faith, you need to calm down. I can’t continue to do this with you several times a week. I understand you miss Daddy, and I miss him too, but you are not dropping out of preschool. If you want to work with Daddy one day then you’ll go to school and graduate and get a job when you’re older. Your job right now is to go to school. Becoming a fighter like your dad is a great goal, but you still have to go to school.”
Liz sounds completely exhausted and aggravated. Judging by her response, this isn’t the first or even third time Bella has thrown a fit about missing me at night. If Bella is upset then there’s a good chance so is Liz. She gave me this second chance and I can’t screw it up. If she isn’t happy, she’ll leave, which means Bella and Liz won’t be living under my roof anymore. I can’t imagine having to live without these two girls. They’ve turned this house into a home with just their presence alone.
I’ve heard guys complain about the messes their kids leave all over the house, or that their wife or girlfriend bought new furniture that’s too girly. I don’t know why they’re complaining. Seeing the pictures Liz has put up, or the new pillows she bought to add color to the living room, or when I walk in and almost trip on Bella’s cute princess shoes, it all makes my day. It’s evidence that I’m living with the two most precious girls, and the day I don’t see any of that is the day my life will no longer have meaning.
I hear Bella sobbing still, but she doesn’t respond, which means she must be giving up. When she knows she’s going to lose the battle, she shuts down. I absolutely love how bright her passion burns, and I hope it never burns out.
I knock softly on the door to let them know of my arrival then walk in. Bella tries to quickly wipe her tears and Liz freezes in place, probably wondering how much I heard.
I pretend like I didn’t hear anything and ignore Bella’s tears. “Hey princess, I was hoping you weren’t asleep. Has Mommy read you a book yet?” I can see it in her eyes that her mom already read her a book and she doesn’t want to lie, but she wants this time with me, shit, she needs this time with me, and I need it with her.
“I read her The Giving Tree,” Liz replies softly, trying to gage my reaction to Bella’s tears, but I make sure not to give anything away.
“Nice. Is it too late to pick one more book to read to Bella before she goes to bed?” I direct the question to Liz to make sure it’s okay. I know it’s after Bella’s bedtime, so I don’t want to step on her toes, but I really don’t want her to tell me no. Bella waits for Liz’s answer and when she says okay, Bella jumps out of bed to grab a book.
I mouth “thank you” to Liz and she gives me a small smile before walking out to give Bella and me some alone time.
“How’s it going, Princess?” My daughter is a smart girl, so she knows exactly what I’m asking, but she just lifts her shoulders up like she’s not sure what I’m asking about.
“Are you giving your mom a hard time?”
The tears well back up in her eyes and she leans over to hug me tightly, sniffling back the cry that’s threatening to break out. “I just wanted to see you before I went to bed, but she said I had to go to sleep. I just miss you so much sometimes. I’m sorry. It’s just not fair. Bedtimes are dumb.”