The first three days were the hardest. I never saw Winnie that often when she was in Dallas, but somehow the days stretched when she was in Maine. Twenty-four hours might as well have been twenty-four days when she was away. To pass the time, I buried myself in work, and took Nate out as often as I could. We attended Christmas parades, holiday parties hosted by my colleagues, and my parents dragged me around the city to various charity events.

I missed Winnie the most on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, even though we spoke to each other on the phone for two hours each day. About practically nothing. Somehow we managed to talk to one another until either her cellphone batteries died or I had to get back to work. Even when we ran out of things to say, we stayed on the line, preferring to listen to one another’s breathing over hanging up the phone first.

Every day, I learned something new about Winnie. Like how she hated chewing gum because once she got a big wad of it stuck in her hair, and her mom had to give her an emergency haircut. Winnie hated brussel sprouts, and loved ninety-nine cent packaged gravy mix. She once lost a tooth riding a roller coaster and vowed to never visit amusement parks again. Got a nose bleed during a high school final exam, but her strict teacher wouldn’t let her use the bathroom, so she got blood all over her test. Winnie didn’t learn how to tie her shoes until she was almost seven, and she didn’t know how to ride a bike.

Each time she told me one of these memories or quirks, I fell for her a little bit more.

One day I woke up and realized I was in love with Winnie Williams. Truly, madly, deeply in love with her.

I don’t know when it happened, really. I couldn’t really pinpoint an exact moment when I realized I wanted her to be mine. Not just for a month or a year, but forever. One day, I woke up and realized for the first time since Lisa left, I wanted to belong to another woman. I wanted to give Winnie everything, and I expected nothing in return. I was going to tell Winnie as soon as she got back, too. I would ask her to be my girlfriend. Before we even had a real first date. I felt an almost boyish giddiness at the thought of confessing my feelings. I was pretty sure she felt the same way about me, and that she would say yes. But still, I felt as nervous as someone about to propose marriage.

It was crazy, wasn’t it? This insane attraction we shared? My obsession with her wasn’t healthy, but I craved her anyway, like a hopeless addict. I physically ached when I thought about the way she felt underneath me the night before she left. And despite the jokes, I really did fantasize about spooning her every night, cuddling her to sleep. My dreams almost always involved her, and not just dreams about us fucking (yes I had a lot of those), but dreams about us being a family too. Once, I even dreamt she was pregnant with a baby girl, and I was the father. That one, I cherished the most. I’d always wanted a daughter, and for the first time since my divorce, I considered getting remarried and having another baby. Getting married to Winnie felt exciting, almost natural, as if it was inevitable.

Because I loved her, and love could turn the best of us into idiots and lunatics.

It was January second, which meant Winnie was coming home in two days. I was running around, trying to tidy up the house in anticipation of her visit. She’d never come over before, and I wanted to make her fall in love with my home. Maybe enough that she’d consider leaving hers and moving in with Nate and me.

“You’re trying awfully hard, Dad,” Nate pointed out, shaking his head. “Too hard.” Some days, he was like the parent, and I, the child.

“Nate, I care a lot about Winnie,” I explained. I hadn’t told him the truth yet, that I was in love with his teacher. I was waiting on the right time. When Winnie and I could tell him together, as a couple. “I want to make her happy.”

“A clean house won’t make her happy. Only you can make her happy.” Wise words coming from a six—no, seven year old now. Damn, time flew.

“Do you think I’m rushing things? What if I scare her off?”

“Dad, you’re asking me for advice? I just turned seven. I don’t know the answer,” Nate deadpanned. “Why don’t you ask Grandma or Grandpa. They’re old, so they know a lot.”

“I want to ask you. You’re my son. You know me best.”

“Grandma’s your mom. I’m pretty sure she knows you best.”

“Yeah, but having Winnie in our lives will affect you, not her.”

“I love having her around. She’s a great teacher, and I’m sure she’ll be a great girlfriend.”

“You aren’t upset, that we’re dating or anything? You need to be honest. If I asked her to be my girlfriend, would that make you uncomfortable?”

“Of course not, Dad. I really, really like Winnie. I think she’s a keeper.” Nate flashed me a heart-melting smile. God, I loved my son. I wanted to give him a big squeeze.

I laughed. “What do you know about keepers?”

“You seem to think I know all the answers.” Nate chuckled. “I just know keepers are forever. She seems like a forever kind of girl.”

I ruffled his hair. “Did you clean your room? I don’t want Winnie to think I raised a slob.” My cell rang and I dug it out of my pocket. The caller ID was unknown, but I answered it anyway, in case it was important. The other end was silent for two seconds, and I was about to hang up, thinking it was a telemarketer, when a voice suddenly crackled to life.

“Mr. Dominic Fieri?” the man asked. I didn’t recognize his voice. He was probably trying to sell me something. My finger moved to the ‘end call’ button. But for some reason, I didn’t press it.

“Yes? Who is this?”

“My name’s Dr. Viktor Marten. I work at Austin Oaks Hospital. I’m calling in regards to your wife Lisa…” The doctor’s voice faded out, and my world crumpled like a house of cards. Shuffling, scattering, collapsing.

All this time, not a single phone call. I’d wondered from time to time how Lisa was doing.

Now I knew.

Lung cancer. Diagnosed six months ago. Didn’t suffer much.

News delivered with clinical efficiency. He asked if I wanted to go see her. She’d returned to the States nine months ago, and was living in Austin. This whole time, she was in the same state as us, and never bothered with a phone call. Didn’t want to visit Nate or tell us about her condition. Maybe she thought she was doing us a favor.

Nate would be devastated.

Nate would be heartbroken.

That. Selfish. Bitch.

It would be a short drive to Austin, but I wasn’t sure I could stomach it. This woman had ripped our lives apart like a hurricane. And she’d left without saying goodbye. She had six months to make her peace with us, but she chose to stay away. This was on her. This was all her fault.

“No, I don’t want to see her. We divorced almost two years ago,” I informed him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. You were listed as her emergency contact…”

After I hung up the phone, I saw Nate staring at me with wide, unblinking eyes. “Was that Mom?”

I broke down and kneeled in front of Nate, squeezing his tiny body tight. “It was your mom’s doctor. She…she’s gone, Nate.”

“Gone? Where did she go?” Nate asked, still not understanding. He blinked once. Twice.

“She had cancer. She passed away last night, buddy,” I said softly. I didn’t want to lie. Not this time. There was no easy way to tell him.

I watched as understanding, then sadness creased my son’s face. “Can we go see her?”

“You want to see her? Are you sure? It won’t be pretty. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to see your mother like…like that—we could wait after the funeral…” I grimaced at the thought of seeing Lisa’s lifeless body on a gurney, or coffin, or wherever they’d put her. Would her boss/new boyfriend give her a funeral? Would he invite us?

“I want to see her, Dad. Where is she? Can we go there?” Nate asked. He never asked for anything, but he was asking now.

I was shocked that despite everything, Nate still wanted to see Lisa. “She’s in Austin. We can drive there.”

“Let’s go, Dad.”

“You sure?” I asked one last time. I was terrified that Nate would be traumatized once he came face to face with the reality that was Lisa’s corpse.

“I think I need to, Dad. I need to say goodbye.”

Nate acted like the real man as we drove down to Austin. I was barely holding it together. Rage fractured and penetrated every bone in my body, my anger, debilitating. She had half a year to make things right. But she never picked up the fucking phone. Not once. I gripped the steering wheel so tight the skin around my knuckles felt like it was about to split open. My knees tremored, my feet itching to floor the accelerator so I could get there faster and get it all over with.

Fuck you, Lisa. Fuck you and your selfishness.

“Dad, breathe,” Nate told me from the backseat. “You’re going red.”

I inhaled, upon Nate’s suggestion. My chest expanded and I felt slightly better. Less dizzy. Less knotted inside. My intestines felt like twisted bungee cords inside me, and my stomach grumbled. I hadn’t even eaten anything since I heard the news. “You hungry, little man? Let’s grab some breakfast.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

We pulled over at a rest stop and grabbed a couple cold sandwiches, which we wolfed down back inside the car. I washed it down with gulps of shitty, too-sweet coffee. Nate emptied his juice box.

“Dad, are you mad because I asked to see her?” Nate asked timidly, squashing his juice box.

“No, Nate. I’m not mad at you. Never think that. I’m mad at her. For not calling us. Not telling us. This whole time, I thought she was still in Brazil. She lied to us.”

“Dad, don’t be angry. She can’t hurt us anymore.”

Hearing my son’s broken voice just about shredded me into a million ribbons. My tendons were on fire, and I wanted to punch a brick wall until I broke every bone in my hand and bled a crimson tide.

How. Dare. She.

How dare she, even in death, steal the precious light I’d created in my life? Just when I found happiness for the first time since left us, she managed to steal it all over again. How could Lisa have that kind of power over our lives? How could I still let her manipulate me like this?

Cunt.

I felt myself ruined all over again, devastated over that undeserving bitch.

She didn’t deserve anything. I didn’t even want to visit her. The only reason I was driving to Austin was because Nate wanted me to. And I couldn’t deny him from saying goodbye to his mother. Even if I hated her guts, I couldn’t deny Nate. If we didn’t go, my boy would hold it against me forever. I was doing this for my kid.

Nate squeezed his seat belt tight, his tiny fists turning white. “I’m sorry I made you drive here to see Mom. I know you didn’t want to.” His voice was shaky, and I prayed he wouldn’t start crying. I didn’t know how to console a child who’d just lost his mother. What was I supposed to say in a situation like this? Parenting didn’t come with a fucking handbook, and moms weren’t supposed to die this early. Lisa had just turned forty.

Panic fucked with my brain, wreaking havoc with my emotions. I was coming undone, bolts and screws falling loose inside my skull.

“It’s okay, Nate. Let’s just see her and go. It’ll give us both some closure.”

“Okay. I promise, it won’t take long.”

When I pulled up to Austin Oaks Hospital, I asked for Dr. Marten. The receptionist said he was done his shift already, and wouldn’t be back until the next day. I turned to Nate, whose face was crushed with disappointment. “What about Lisa Fieri? We came here because we got news that she’d passed away.”

The kindly old woman searched through her records and found my ex-wife’s name and her records. “She’s been transported to the mortuary downstairs. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I’m not,” I grumbled under my breath. Nate and I made our way to the mortuary, following the signs.

The mortuary was silent as a grave. It gave me serious chills surrounded by all these dead people. And the place was physically cold too, to preserve the bodies. It smelled of chemicals and made me want to vomit. Everything was squeaky clean, almost like an operating room.

I suspected Nate didn’t like it too much either. I applauded my little man for braving the trip down here, but I had a suspicion he’d freak out once they actually pulled out Lisa’s body. He’d never seen a real corpse before, and every bone in my body told me that this was a bad idea. I needed to get Nate out of there before we passed the point of no return.

Someone handed me Lisa’s death certificate. I didn’t want it. I had no plans to register her death or deal with her burial. We weren’t even related anymore. But apparently they couldn’t reach anyone else. Lisa had cut off all ties with her family when she left, and now that she was dead, she was all alone. Where was her Brazilian boyfriend now? It was ironic how she’d abandoned us, and now in death, he had abandoned her.

I crouched down one more time and asked Nate again, “Are you sure? You do realize—”

“Dad, I’m not a baby anymore. I know what I’m going to see. I’ve seen dead people on TV before.”

“You’re still just a kid. And seeing it on TV isn’t the same as in real life. Not to mention this isn’t any dead body. It’s your mom.”

Nate puffed out his chest. “I know. Let’s do this. I can handle it, Dad. Honest.”

I had to give it to my little man, he had guts. I nodded to the pencil-thin woman who stood by waiting to take Lisa’s body out of its refrigerated locker. The anticipation was far worse than the real deal. Even though Lisa looked almost nothing like the last time saw her, I still recognized her. By the beauty mark on her forehead. The downward slant of her eyes, her thin lips. It was my ex-wife, no doubt about it. My dead ex-wife.

I looked over at Nate, half expecting him to burst into tears. But he just stood there, motionless, a soldier. He held his emotions in like a vacuum-sealed bag, nothing seeped out. I squeezed his shoulder, and found his muscles tight. “Nate, talk to me.”

“I’m all right, Dad.” He walked up to Lisa’s cold body and rested a shaky hand on the top of her head. She’d lost almost all her hair, probably due to chemo, and she’d lost probably thirty or forty pounds. All her skin clung in saggy piles on her face, and she looked like she’d aged decades. Cancer. Karma was a real bitch to her, but she probably had it coming.

“She looks peaceful now,” Nate said, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “I’m glad it’s all over.”

“Let’s go, Nate. I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

“I’m just gonna say goodbye.”

Nate’s strength shocked me. The sight of Lisa made me want to hurl, but there he was, a six-year-old, recently turned seven, and stronger than his thirty-nine-year-old father. “Okay, I’ll be by the door.”

I had no parting words for Lisa. I watched, though, as Nate whispered something into her deaf ears, before turning around and claiming my hand. My large palm dwarfed his, but his had quiet strength, while mine felt clammy and suddenly boneless. “What did you say to her?” I asked.

“I told her we were happier now without her, but that I still hoped she was going to Heaven, even after all the bad things she did.”

I shuddered. When did my son become a tougher, emotionally stronger version of his dad? Was he just putting on a front right now, trying to stay strong when he was actually damaged inside?

“Let’s get ice-cream,” I said. “I think this calls for ice-cream. What do you say, buddy?”

“No, I don’t think so. Your hands are super sweaty, Dad,” Nate noted.

“Spent too long driving,” I said, hoping he’d accept the excuse.

“Are you gonna tell Winnie?” Nate suddenly asked.

I hadn’t really thought that far yet, but Winnie deserved to know what was going on in our lives. And this was a huge deal. “Yeah, I’ll call her when we get home.”

Except I didn’t. Couldn’t. She was on vacation, and I didn’t want to ruin her precious time with her family.

I also had another thankless chore to do before we could go home: I had to call Lisa’s parents.

The call lasted all of five minutes. I informed the Jansens that Lisa had passed away, and that her body awaited collection at Austin Oaks Hospital. I left them Dr. Marten’s contact information, and they thanked me for my help. They asked me if I’d come to the funeral, but I declined. Seeing her at the hospital was more than enough. No one could pay me enough to make me go to her funeral and deal with her grief-stricken family. I’d never gotten along with the in-laws, and felt no obligation to console them. Yes, it was callous of me, but I refused to subject myself and Nate to the horror show that would be Lisa’s funeral.

We drove home in silence. Nate didn’t look so well, and halfway home, we had to pull over so he could puke. I didn’t know what to say to Nate, so I clammed up. By the time we pulled up to our place, he was already fast asleep.