Chapter 3

That night, my head pounded so badly I could barely think straight, and in my daze, I accidentally dialed Nolan.

He came back right away, poured me a glass of water, and helped me take my medication.

"Do not blame the kid. It is just the novelty wearing off. Give it a few days and he will be calling for you again. Get some rest while you can. You have gotten thinner."

Once he saw I was feeling better, he went back to the hospital. Over the next few days, I could barely stay awake. Every time I surfaced, my mouth tasted bitter and my stomach cramped in waves.

I went to the hospital alone.

The doctor studied my face, puzzled. "Did you switch medications? The ones you were on before were working well. Do not change them unless there is a reason to."

I shook my head. I carried my medication everywhere, and the packaging looked the same as always.

However, the doctor picked up the pills and ran a quick test, and the results came back wrong.

"These are similar to sleeping pills. You are intolerant to those, are you not? I prescribed them once when you could not sleep, and you had this exact reaction. Your sleep has been fine lately, so who has been giving you these?"

My entire body went cold.

The image of Nolan handling my medication flashed through my mind, and I almost could not believe what it meant.

He had been annoyed that I called him the other night. To make sure it did not happen again, he had swapped my pills for sleeping medication.

Just weeks ago, he had been the one to warn me. "Every medicine has side effects. Make sure you do not mix anything up."

Yet his answer to keeping me from bothering him was to knock me out.

I let out a bitter laugh. It felt like my chest was being carved open one cut at a time.

I went home and started packing. I was not willing to put off the divorce any longer.

While I sorted through things, a test paper slipped out and drifted to the floor. It was from Bryce's language arts class, marked with a perfect score. The teacher had written a comment at the top.

"Sincere love, all for Mom. Wonderful!"

For a moment, I was somewhere else entirely. I remembered when Bryce first started preschool and came home with the first song he had ever learned, a little tune about how nobody in the world was better than your mother. I had held his hand on the walk home while he sang it in his wobbly, off-key voice.

"Mommy, when I grow up I am gonna buy you a big house. My mommy is the best."

I picked up the test paper and read what he had written.

"Mom and I are like frost on a winter night. We only come together when it is cold, and when it gets warm, we drift apart. So I keep waiting, hoping winter comes soon."

Every word was full of love, and none of it was for me. The realization crushed something at the center of my spine.

I sat alone for a long time. Then I stood, wiped the dust off my mother's urn, and held it against my chest.

The last gift she left me was not a good one. I was taking her with me when I left. I did not want anyone anymore.

The lock clicked, and Nolan walked in with Bryce, freshly discharged from the hospital. Bryce was still young and terrible at hiding things. He was still going on about whatever they had been discussing on the way home.

"Daddy, it is gonna be another nine months of sitting up straight and standing up straight, cannot eat this, cannot eat that. It is so annoying."

Nolan tapped him on the head. "Do not say stuff like that. Mom does it because she cares about you."

Bryce pouted. "But I am not happy. Daphne never makes me do all that stuff."

So that was how he really felt. Hearing it this time, I was calm.

The nine months he dreaded were the nine months I poured everything into. I had spent every single day terrified that the three-month allergy season would stretch longer. To them, those nine months were a prison sentence.

Nolan spotted me in the bedroom and assumed I had not heard any of it. After scolding Bryce, he brought him over.

"Iris, this little troublemaker is just being difficult. Good thing you did not come to the hospital, or he would have worn you out."