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and my son. But I also know that at some point Zach will come looking for us. This time, I’m not so sure there’s room in my heart to take him back.

 

     
    The house is quiet when I get up. I peek in on Jonah and see little brown tufts of hair poking out from beneath the navy blue comforter that he’s cocooned himself in. The door creaks slightly as I try to shut it, causing Jonah to stir. Not wanting to wake him up just yet, I freeze and hold my breath until he relaxes back into his favorite sleeping position on his stomach.
    He’s been so great during this whole move, not even crying when I told him we weren’t going to be able to go back to our house in California. The fact that Zach isn’t with us doesn’t seem to faze him. Granted, even when we all lived under the same roof, there were long periods of time where it felt like he was a complete stranger to us. He’d slink off to his office for days at a time, only coming out to make sure I wasn’t letting Jonah bake cookies, draw with crayons or do “any of that other pussy shit”. He wanted a certain kind of son, and one thing I learned quickly about Zach, is what Zachary Biggs wants, Zachary Biggs gets.
    Caleb’s not around, but there’s a piece of paper with his chicken scratch on it letting me know he ran out to fix a client’s computer. I make a quick cup of coffee and wrestle with my feelings. I should be devastated that Zach walked out on us, leaving me thousands of dollars in debt. But I’m not. If anything, I feel as though for the first time in a long time, I can finally breathe.
    Things weren’t always this bad, but seven years of marriage can put a lot of strain on two people who have grown in such different directions. While my world revolved around Jonah, Zach’s main focus became gambling. I didn’t used to mind when Zach would go out to gamble to blow off some steam, because it provided a reprieve for me. When he was away, there was no yelling, no ordering me around, no crying. But as soon as his gambling started to interfere with his parenting, I knew we had a problem. Grabbing my phone, I press speed dial and wait as his voicemail kicks on. Listening to the deep sound of his voice, I try to figure out what I’m going to say, remembering what happened the last time I was forced to confront him about his addiction.
    Eight Months Ago
    “You’re late,” I say as the lights flicker to life, illuminating the school gym. “You missed his entire performance.”
    “I know, I’m sorry, traffic was just awful. There was a pileup on the I-15,” he says, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “You recorded it, though, right? I’ll just watch it later tonight and it’ll be like I was here the entire time.”
    “Except you weren’t.”
    “Look, Callie, can we not do this right now? I had a really rough day at work, and I just spent an hour in traffic trying to get here, okay? I already said I’m sorry that I missed the show, what more do you want?”
    I press my lips together and frown. “Okay, but why do you smell like scotch?”
    “Jesus. Because I had a drink at the office before leaving. I wasn’t aware that I needed your permission for everything. Would you like me to call you the next time I need to take a piss? Or maybe you’d like to start picking out my clothes for me as well.”
    “I don’t want to fight with you, Zach. I was just asking a question.” Grabbing my purse off the floor, I rummage through it until I find my keys. “I told Jonah I’d take him to get ice cream after he’s done changing. Do you want to join us?”
    “No, I have to get back to the office. Big wigs are flying in from headquarters tomorrow, so we’ve got to be prepared for our budget meeting. I’ll see you guys back at the house.”
    I nod. “Okay. Oh, I left my jacket at home, can I borrow yours?”
    He lets out an exaggerated sigh, and reluctantly shrugs out of his jacket and holds it out for me as I slip my arms into the holes. To an