Wish Upon A Sunset

Dinner Proposal...What The Hell?

Emma

Present Day...

My heart pounded as I took a deep breath, steeling myself before knocking on Zack's front door. I stepped inside, the familiar smell of vanilla greeting me, but it did little to calm my nerves.

The house was almost exactly as I remembered. Candace, the nurse, and the supervisor were in their usual spots. My daughter lay on the couch in the same position, and Tristan was again watching a soccer game on TV. The only difference was Zack sitting next to him. I wrung my hands, feeling more out of place than ever.

I had been almost hopeful about today's visitation before Logan's recent confession. Instead, old, negative feelings of my past surged up, intensified by the sting of Logan's betrayal. Knowing that Logan had witnessed my lowest moments, interviewed me, and testified in court, sat like a rock in my gut. That he had lied to me about his involvement didn't help either. Logically, I understood why he did it, but emotionally, I was a wreck. It had left me feeling uneasy and unsure.

As soon as I stepped into the living room, Zack turned and smiled warmly at me, a sight I hadn't seen in years. It was disarming, making me pause mid-step. That smile brought back memories of our early years together, and I didn't know if I could trust it.

"Hi, Emma," he said, sounding almost enthusiastic.

"Hi," I replied cautiously, giving a general wave to everyone in the room to avoid singling him out.

"Hi, Mom," Tristan said, coming over to hug me. His little arms wrapped around my waist, and tears welled up in my eyes. I blinked them back, not wanting Zack to see me cry. My back stiffened, and I vowed he would never see my tears again.

Tristan's hug was warm and tight, a complete turnaround from our last visit when he barely made eye contact with me.

"Hi, baby." I squeezed him close, trying to breathe in the comforting scent of his shampoo.

Tristan pulled back, looking puzzled. "Mom, why are you sniffing me?"

I laughed softly, "Sorry, I haven't sniffed you in a long time."

"Well, it's weird," Tristan said as he returned to the couch. It might be weird, but I planned to do it again.

I moved into the living room, where Candace was preparing Grace's feeding tube. "Oh, you're here. I was just about to start Grace's feeding," she said with a sugary smile that made my skin crawl.

"Thanks for getting started," I replied, walking over. "Let me take it from here."

I leaned down to Grace, gently tracing a finger along her cheek. "Hi, sweetheart," I whispered, kissing her forehead. It hurt that she didn't react to my touch or voice, a painful reminder of her condition.

As I reached for the feeding supplies, Candace tutted softly. "Now, now, let's not rush into this. Proper technique is crucial with tube feedings. You wouldn't want to risk harming your precious little one, would you?"

My cheeks flushed at her condescending remark. "Of course not. But I've done this before, Candace, remember? I know how to feed my daughter." The nurse's behavior was giving me whiplash.

"Do you?" She arched one of those perfectly groomed eyebrows. "Let's review the process, just to be safe. We can't have any...mishaps."

As Candace began a slow, exaggerated demonstration of the feeding procedure, I clenched my jaw. The thinly veiled implications were clear-she thought me an inept, careless mother.

"You'll want to go slowly," she intoned, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "We don't want Grace choking or aspirating, do we? That would be just dreadful."