I Think I'm in Trouble {Reimagined}

LXVII.

The way Stevie's nightly routine had changed was evident; on a normal night she would clean her kitchen, head upstairs and do her nightly sweep of each kid's room, bidding them each a goodnight before finally making it to her bedroom to wash up for bed, although things were different.

After cleaning the kitchen, she took a visit to the guest bedroom to say goodnight to her husband, then she made her way upstairs to say goodnight to her parents who were in her bedroom and from there, she made it to her kids, starting with Jeffrey.

She knocked gently on the open bedroom door, seeing that her son was getting ready for bed considering he was pulling his tee shirt off.

"Come in."

"I was hoping we could have that chat, honey," she walked in, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed.

"What's up?" he nodded.

"Honey, I know you think your dad and me separating is your fault, but it's not."

"Mom--"

"Wait," she put her hand up calmly, gesturing for silence, "let me finish..."

He obeyed by nodding and closing his mouth.

"Already as it was, when I got back from rehab, your dad and me were not the same. I thought one way, he thought another and I assumed it was just my perception and I didn't give it much more of a thought because I thought it was me seeing things with a sober mind, seeing my real life differently. But when you left, the definitive glue holding this family together, I realized how different your father and me truly were. I realized how the only thing we had in common were you guys. Yes, it absolutely broke my heart when you left, but that's not why I had an affair. I had an affair because I needed more than what I was getting from your father emotionally. And I got it."

"I'm happy for you, mom, really, and Lindsey," he agreed.

"I'm glad. But I'm only telling you that our separation wasn't your fault. I just hope you believe me," she claimed.

"I do, I just... I don't know," he shrugged.

"You're just another one of those kids going through the phases of their parents divorcing, that's all. I'm just telling you, like many of the parents, it's got nothing to do with the kids. Besides, your dad and me are still good friends. We had some discussions prior, but we're in a good place now."

"That's good," he nodded.

"And we're both here for you. Even if we're not together anymore, I'd never kick him out of this house, especially in his condition."

He nodded.

"I hope you sleep well at night," she stood up, but turned to face him, "coming from me that our separation was not your fault," she stated once more to sound redundant---she just wanted him to understand.

"I will," he agreed. "I get it," he stood up and he hugged her.

"I love you, sweet baby," she kissed his face. "You'll always be mama's little boy, no matter how you tower over me."

He chuckled.

"Get some rest, my love," she pulled back and exited the room, shutting his door and turning off his light for him.

She then ventured down the way to meet her youngest son in his room at the end of the hall; his door cracked, though the big light off and a small bedside lamp on.

The teenager was already tucked away in bed, although he had a Gameboy in his hands.

"Can I come in?" she knocked.