Chapter Thirty-Two
Of all the secrets I’ve held over the last few months, I’m the saddest
about keeping everything from my mother. I don’t know how she’ll
take it. I know she’ll be excited about the pregnancy, but I don’t know
how she’ll feel about me and Ryle splitting up. She loves Ryle. And
based on her history with these types of situations, she’ll probably find
it very easy to excuse his behavior and try and convince me to take
him back. And in all honesty, that’s part of the reason I’ve been
stalling this, because I’m scared there’s a chance she might be
successful.
Most days I’m strong. Most days I’m so mad at him that the
thought of ever forgiving him is ludicrous. But some days I miss him
so much I can’t breathe. I miss the fun I had with him. I miss making
love to him. I miss missing him. He used to work so many hours that
when he would walk in the front door at night I would rush across the
room and jump in his arms because I missed him so much. I even
miss how much he loved it when I would do that.
It’s the not-so-strong days when I wish my mother knew about
everything that was going on. I sometimes just want to drive over to
her house and curl up on the couch with her while she tucks my hair
behind my ear and tells me it’ll all be okay. Sometimes even grown
women need their mother’s comfort so we can just take a break from
having to be strong all the time.
I sit in my car, parked in her driveway, for a good five minutes
before I work up the strength to go inside. It sucks that I have to do
this because I know that in a way, I’ll be breaking her heart, too. I
hate it when she’s sad and telling her I married a man who might be
like my father is going to make her really sad.
When I walk through the front door, she’s in the kitchen layering
noodles in a pan. I don’t remove my coat right away for obvious