𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 | RAFE CAMERON

Forty Five.2 | I S S U E S

— Rafes POV

I slowly opened my eyes, stretching my hand out to the side, expecting to feel Scarlett's warm skin beside me. But as my hand flopped onto the empty space, I was met with a jolt of reality. She wasn't there.

I sighed, rolling onto my back, and stared up at the ceiling. Another day without her. It felt like an eternity since we'd decided to take a break from each other. I missed her more than words could express.

My mind wandered back to the last time we were together, the way she'd smiled at me at the beach, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners. I missed the way she'd curl up beside me at night, her hand on my chest, her head on my shoulder.

I threw my arm over my eyes, trying to block out the memories. It was no use. I couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. Without Scarlett, everything felt dull, gray.

I tossed off the covers and swung my legs over the side of the bed, my feet thudding onto the floor. I rubbed my face, trying to erase the sleep from my eyes. It was going to be a long day.

As I stood up, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked rough, like I'd been through hell. Dark circles under my eyes, stubble on my chin. I needed a shower, needed to get out of this funk.

I headed to the bathroom, turning the water to scorching hot. As I stepped under the spray, I let out a deep breath, trying to wash away the heartache. But I had to keep moving forward.

I then got dressed, brushed my teeth, and shaved my beard. Then I went into Tommy's room to get him ready for the day.

I stared down at Tommy, his little face scrunched up in sleep. I never thought I'd be the one taking care of him, not on my own, not without Scarlett by my side. But here I was, struggling to keep up with his energetic two-year-old self.

It had been six days since Scarlett left, and I thought I was doing okay. I mean, I'd taken care of Tommy before, but always with Scarlett around to help out. Now, I was flying solo, and it was a whole different ball game. Simple tasks like feeding and bathing him seemed like a challenge.

I sighed and rubbed my tired eyes. How did Scarlett do this every day? She made it look so easy, but now I realized it was anything but that. Just getting Tommy to eat his breakfast was a battle. He refused to touch the scrambled eggs I made, and the toast was a no-go too. I ended up resorting to bribery, offering him a cookie if he just ate one bite of the eggs. It was pathetic, but I was desperate.

After breakfast, we had to get ready for his playdate with Emma, a little girl just down the street whose parents thought it was a good idea that they'd meet. I tried to dress him in the outfit Scarlett had laid previously, but Tommy had other plans. He insisted on wearing his superhero cape, and I couldn't resist those big blue eyes. We left the house, cape and all, with me feeling like the world's most unprepared parent.

As we walked to the park, Tommy darted ahead, his cape fluttering behind him. I tried to keep up, but my strides couldn't keep pace with his little legs. We passed by a group of moms, all chatting and laughing, I felt like a total failure. They all seemed to have their acts together, their kids quiet and well-behaved. Meanwhile, Tommy was shouting "I'M SUPER TOMMY!" at the top of his lungs, cape flying behind him like a tiny flag.

Emma's mom, Rachel, was nice, but I could tell she was surprised by my lack of parental skills. Maybe it was the fact that I let Tommy have a juice box and a cookie at 10 am, or maybe it was the way I struggled to get him to calm down during circle time. Whatever it was, I felt like I was under a microscope, and I didn't measure up.

As the morning wore on, I grew more and more exhausted. How did Scarlett do this every day? How did she keep her energy up, her patience strong? I was a disaster, and I knew it. By the time Rachel offered to take Emma home, I was relieved. One less thing to worry about.