Edward

Chapter Sixteen

Washington, DC 2018

You Stand in the doorway. "I have a surprise for you." My heart lifts. Then I see you have Alexander in your arms. I see you's bringing my little baby to me. You walk over and my longing for our old trust and passion is replaced with a wave of oxytocin, the deluge of love for my little baby. I recognize something — it will be ok. I love my baby. That's what depression had taken from me. Painting smiles so the baby would be tricked into thinking I adored him, but now see? I really do.

"And another" you say. I can't look at you, Edward, any more because of my longing. Finally I do, I've fallen in love with you again. "A coffee."

"You're sweet but I'm trying not to—caffeine— with Alex..." It's funny that I don't have the same restraint with wine, but caffeine..the anxiety.

"Decaffeinated."

It's there on the bedside table and you are gone. I hear the car, the sound of the German engine. Alexander is already nursing and his eye lids growing heavy. Had he been awake in his crib? Content to self sooth, sensing somehow his mother has finally arrived, ready to nurture. Real nurture—genuine and unfettered?

Once Alexander falls asleep, I create a space next to me on the bed, a little nest of blankets and lay him beside me. It's only 7:30. Maddy-a good sleeper—will sleep until 9 unless I wake her. I finally sip my coffee. It's tepid, but knowing you made it for me sends reminiscent bursts of dopamine through my body. Desire.

I pick up my phone and text "thank you for the coffee. Thank you ..." I delete all of it and text again. "I'm glad you're back. I'll always—" I delete the last two words. "I'm glad you're back." Then I find a picture on my phone. The one with the four of us at mom's just a few days ago. Seeing your face again ignites me, almost makes me high. I hit send.

Then, like a teenage girl I wait. I put the phone down next to me, pretend it's not there. I get lost for a moment in Alexander's calm breathing. Little infant breaths. I look at my phone again. You've seen the message but aren't responding. It sends my heart plummeting. Love Bombing. You have to recognize this Annie. You have to see the pattern.

I text again ?" And wait.

Finally, "thank you"

I feel everything drop inside me and I hate the ambiguity. I text again "sorry to bother you at work."

Then it comes..." I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you..."

I open facebook and scroll pretending I'm not about to look up/ cyber stalk as people joke, pretending I won't be looking for Lenore. I know her name is Leora. But I'd prefer her to be Lenore. It is less sophisticated in my mind. I imagine she would block me. Leora Hall. She's easy to find on facebook. I recognize her from the pictures I found on your phone. Before You left. God, Edward really? You're the type to sext someone? I shudder both in disrespect and in rage. Back then, there on your phone she had no clothes on. In those, she was flush with dopamine. Cringe. Worthy.

Her page isn't even private and that sends a wave of anger, of what origin I do not know.

There she is...my husband's lover. She's not much younger than I am. She looks maybe older. Maybe 35. Could she be 5 years older than me? She is a different type of woman—aren't all women who have affairs. It's funny how I exclude myself from this category. It was one time, then just our friendship but that one time may be worse than all of Edward's. Long wavy reddish blonde hair. It's a mass of hair. Her eyes appear green. There is something modern about her—contemporary. She could be from New York not New England. Her pale skin dotted with freckles. I don't see her on a sailboat or having wine on the Cape. I see her in a restaurant, in New York. Her most recent post has 60 likes "being resilient is maybe the hardest and bravest thing about being human- and its so damn tiring" "Oh God," I whisper ...take a sip of my cold coffee. Hardest and bravest? Oh God.