I found out shortly afterwards that she was pregnant. I never asked, but I was under the impression that it happened very early on their relationship and might not have been planned. By that point, I was not talking to Alexis and or my parents, so I never asked, and it was too painful to bring up. I now realize that, for my parents, their daughter was pregnant and unmarried at the time, and she needed her parents’ support.
A few weeks after learning that Alexis was expecting Ethan’s child, I was invited to their wedding. A small affair that I refused to go to. My parents were furious with me, but I felt betrayed and embarrassed. The rift that had started with Alexis and Ethan dating, and then the pregnancy, grew into an estrangement with the marriage. The only reason I got back in touch with my parents was when my mother told me she was ill and likely not to live to see her granddaughter’s first birthday.
I take a deep breath, this is obviously not the time to rehash any of that. It’s not worth it, even if I had wanted to talk to Ethan about how betrayed I’d felt, how hurt.
“It’s a good thing we don’t live that far apart,” Ethan says quietly, and I shrug. As soon as I could, I’d found a place to live in the next town over, closer to where I work, and when Ethan and Alexis had gotten married, they’d gotten a place the next town over in the other direction. I’d known about that, but I’d never visited them. In fact, from the time I’d found out about them dating, and Alexis and I had our massive fight over it, I’d stayed away from even my parents’ house.
“It’ll make it easier for Riley,” I agree, for the sake of agreeing. Ethan’s going through enough right now, and even if I don’t know if I can ever really forgive him, I don’t really have any cause to make things worse.
“There are just so many things… I can’t even imagine what it will be like, being a single father,” Ethan says, and there’s a sound in his voice like his throat is closing up.
“Yeah,” I say. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to push any thought of what history Ethan and I have out of my mind. If I’m going to do what my sister wanted, if I’m going to help raise her daughter, I’ll have to forget that there was ever anything between Ethan and me at all.
“I shouldn’t be unloading on you,” Ethan says, and I open my eyes. I can’t help but laugh a little.
“You’re the one who lost a wife,” I point out.
“You lost a sister,” Ethan counters.
I shrug. I don’t want to talk about all the complicated feelings that come along with Alexis being dead. “I was just going to grab a book and read for a while since I can’t fall asleep,” I say, and stand up to go to the bookshelf along the wall.
“Yeah, I should probably figure out something to do that won’t wake up Riley,” Ethan says. He looks down at his phone and I can feel the tension between us, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
Chapter Seven
Ethan
The next morning, after I finally manage to get some sleep, I bring Riley downstairs after changing her diaper and getting her dressed and her hair neatened up a bit. Lara is in the kitchen, already working on breakfast. My father-in-law is at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the paper. I am suddenly reminded that he has lost his wife and daughter within a year of each other. We are all damaged from this course of events.
Riley mumbles into my neck about being hungry as we come in.
“Hey, Riley-baby!” Lara looks wide awake at first, but at the same time, I can tell she hasn’t slept any better than I have. “I’m almost done cooking up some breakfast, but you can have some fruit to start if your daddy says it’s okay.”
“I’ll do that. You are already making breakfast,” I say, getting Riley into her high chair as quickly as I can.
Nathan looks up from the paper and takes a sip of his coffee. I’m just as glad he doesn’t appear to be in a chatting mood. He also looks like he hasn’t slept much either.
I grab a bowl from the cupboard and get a few pieces of fruit for Riley out of the fridge. Fortunately, at eighteen months, she’s just about fully weaned off formula, so I don’t have to worry about anything too messy, other than the possibility of my daughter smashing and smearing fruit all over her face.
I grab a mug from the cupboard and pour myself a cup.
Lara notices and says, “Milk and sugar are on the table if you want either.”
“Thanks.” I learned to take my coffee black about a year ago.
I watch Riley play with and eat her fruit, exclaiming in little excited squeals over each piece before bringing it to her mouth.
I sip my coffee and listen to the silence of the adults in the kitchen.
Lara is making eggs and bacon, but I can smell pancakes too, even if I can’t see them. They must be in the oven.
By the time I’m halfway through my coffee, Lara’s putting breakfast on the table. It’s so much like being back home with Alexis that for a second I feel absolutely at ease, and then I remember that my wife is dead, leaving me and our daughter behind, and it feels like something in my chest is crumbling in the most painful way possible. I sit there numb for a moment and will myself not to break in front of my in-laws.
Lara brings over the rest of the food and we start piling
