“CAN WE ASK Jude to come to the zoo?” Ty asked when I was getting him ready for our trip to Taronga Zoo. We’d cancelled our usual running date with Janesa and Rosie in favour of the zoo because we had been talking about Africa, the next destination on our, well, Tyler’s, ‘Places to Visit’ list. We weren’t able to go for at least a year, but Ty was already so excited about it that he wanted to go and look at some of the animals we’d get to see on safari. I was more than happy to oblige.

“I don’t know. He might be busy today.”

I knew for a fact that he wasn’t busy. I’d spoken to him for over an hour on the phone the night before after Ty had gone to sleep. I loved listening to his voice, to the soft tone of it caressing my ear. He had thought he was boring me for a moment, but his voice was so soothing that I almost feel asleep. I assured him it was a good thing.

“Can we go and ask him?”

“I don’t know,” I responded, not sure that since things were progressing from ‘something’ to ‘something more’ between Jude and me that it was wise to get Ty too involved with him. I needed the freedom to walk away from Jude if things didn’t work out without having to worry about breaking a little boy’s heart.

“Please, Mummy. Jude knows all about am-inals. He’ll make it more fun.”

“It will be fun if it’s just us.”

“Please,” he begged, drawing the word out so the e sound kept going.

I was terrible at saying no to his adorable little face. “OK. I’ll call him. We’re not going up there so you can force him with your puppy dog eyes.”

“Yay.” Ty jumped up and down, clapping his hands and laughing while I placed the call. Crazy kid. I had to laugh with him.

“Good morning,” Jude answered, his voice smooth as silk and full of smiles.

“I have a proposition for you, one you are at liberty to refuse if you’re not interested or have too much work to do.”

“Are you trying to convince me to say no before you’ve asked me?”

“No. I’m just letting you know that I won’t be offended by your decision either way.”

“OK then. You’ve prepared me well, what’s this proposition of yours?”

“Would you like to join Ty and me at the zoo today?”

“I would love to join you and Ty at the zoo today.”

He would? My heart skittered about in my chest. He wants to come to the zoo with us. “Seriously?”

“Of course. I haven’t been to the zoo in years. And the company isn’t too bad either.”

“Smooth.” I laughed. “OK. Well, come down when you’re ready. We’re catching the train and ferry in.”

“Is he coming?” Ty asked after I’d ended the call.

“He is.”

“Yes!” He ran around in a circle, waving his arms above his head in excitement. By the time I got him calmed down, there was a knock on the door.

“Hey.” My mouth pulled up the corners without my giving it permission. Just the sight of Jude made me smile. Today he was without his glasses, obviously using contacts instead. I wasn’t sure if I liked him better with the glasses or without, then I decided that I just liked him, so it didn’t really matter what he was wearing for his eyesight.

“Hey.” He smiled back, kissing me lightly on the cheek when he stepped inside. Then he turned his attention to Ty.

“We’re gonna have the best day,” Ty yelled jumping up so Jude would pick him up. Jude caught him and brought him to his hip as if it were the most normal thing to do. The action made my heart swell a little more. I liked that there was no pretence in it. I could see he wasn’t interacting with Ty because he wanted to impress me. He was simply being a decent human being, taking the time to respond to a little boy who had taken a shine to him.

“We are going to have the best day,” Jude agreed. “There are going to be monkeys and rhinos.”

“I really want to see an eff-el-ant. Oh, and lions,” Ty said, holding his fingers like they were claws then wriggling so Jude lowered him to the ground. He then proceeded to stalk around the apartment roaring.

Crouching low, Jude followed behind him then released a loud roar when Ty turned around, causing him to drop to the floor in a fit of giggles.

I laughed at the two of them, unable to ignore that little voice inside that was wondering if this was how things would have been if Tyler hadn’t had MS. Turning away, I busied myself collecting our things to hide any sort of visible sadness in my expression. “All right, you two. We’d better get going or we’ll miss our train.”

Jude helped Ty off the floor then we headed for the front door.

“You’re really great with kids, Jude,” I said while we made our way to the train station.

He started to shrug then I saw his shoulders relax. “Kids are easy. I work with them every day in the clinic and they really just want to be happy. It’s the adults who are hard, because they’ve forgotten what happiness looks like.”

“That is so true,” I said, thinking about my own experience with patients. The children almost always recovered faster than the adults for that very reason. Kids wanted happiness, whereas adults kind of made a home for themselves in their misery.

Had I been doing that over the last five years? Before he died, Tyler made me promise to find happiness and to live a good life, but I’d refused, choosing to live inside my grief instead, only finding moments of joy in the things that most reminded me of him—namely in Ty.

It was unfair for a little boy to be the one and only source of his mother’s happiness.

The revelation hit me in a way that felt like a fog clearing. It was like I’d been seeing the world in muted colours and suddenly everything was a lot more vibrant.

I stopped walking when it hit me, looking around at the world in full colour, trying to figure out if I was OK there.

“Sweetheart, you have so long ahead of you. I want you to live even better than before. You have to have adventures and fall in love again. You have to have kids so you can live forever through them.”

Tyler’s words filled my mind with such vivid detail that it was like I could hear him then and there. I turned around, expecting to see him. But there was just a group of teenagers, looking at something on their phones.

“Come on, Mummy. We’ll miss the train.” Ty slipped his hand inside mine, soft and warm. I smiled down at him, picking up my step again to catch up to Jude who was smiling with eyes touched with concern. He placed his hand on the small of my back.

“He makes you smile, sweetheart. Go for it.”

“Are you OK?” Jude asked, standing next to me on the platform. “You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.” I couldn’t really tell him that the world had suddenly gotten brighter and my late husband was talking to me. He’d think I was crazy.

It felt crazy. Living without someone. Feeling them around. Seeing them and sometimes hearing them. It certainly was a cruel trick of the mind.

“Would you like me to get you a coffee? I think we have enough time before the train arrives.”

Reaching out, I stopped him from moving away by taking his hand. “No. Just stay here. I’ll be fine.” The grip of his hand tightened around mine. I took comfort in it, felt the warmth as it made its way up my arm and settled softly against my heart. It was OK to want this. It was OK to try and be happy again.

“He’s exhausted,” Jude whispered, carrying Ty who was passed out on his shoulder. Going to the zoo was exciting enough for a small boy, but add to that two trains and a ferry ride, and you had the perfect sleep cocktail—absolutely no energy left at the end of it.

“His room is down here.” I led Jude down the hall to the third door on the right, a nameplate saying ‘Tyler Jnr’ adorning it at eye level.

Quickly kicking toys out of the way, I pulled the blankets down and flicked on his world globe night light. Jude leaned forward and placed Ty in amongst his sheets, pulling them up to cover his small body. “Night, buddy,” he whispered, gently patting his head.

I leaned down and kissed Ty on the forehead. “Good night, my little golden boy,” I told him.

When we made it back to the living area, Jude stopped and leaned against the kitchen bench. “Today was pretty great. Thanks for inviting me along.”

“I’m glad you could come. But, you don’t have to go just yet. I do have that bottle of wine you brought around on Friday. We never drank it.”

I turned around to get some glasses, feeling light on my feet after a fantastic day that felt so much brighter than any day had been in such a long time. I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted him to stay. Please stay.

“I want to tell you something first. And if, when I’m finished, you feel like you want to tell me something, I’d like to listen. Does that sound fair?”

I nodded then gulped, placing the glasses on the bench before placing my hands flat against the granite. My heart thumped against my chest. What was he going to say? Was he going to tell me that he didn’t want to be anything more than friends? Was he going to say that being with a single mother was too much for him? He’d seemed fine all day, happy even. Why was he suddenly so serious?

“I’ve told you that my stepmother brought us to Australia because of my father’s problems. But what I haven’t told you is why he had those problems. You see, he had been a wonderful father. He doted on my mother and he adored my brother and me. I couldn’t have asked for a more textbook experience of growing up in a loving house. But, when I was nine, my mother was diagnosed with intrauterine cancer. It was untreatable, and she died a short time later. My father fell apart. He just wasn’t himself without her. Drinking was the only thing that seemed to interest him, and my brother and I, although we had also lost her, were forced to grow up very quickly and look after ourselves.

“Within a year, he remarried—not for love. I think he choose Cherie because she looked a little like my mum and he wanted someone to look after his sons. Then she fell pregnant and everything spiralled out of control. You see, he’d moved on too quickly, didn’t deal with his grief. He just locked it all up inside until it turned him into the disgruntled person he became.”

“That must have been hard,” I said, my voice quiet as the pit in my stomach tightened.

“It was. We weren’t even allowed to talk about her. And we needed to talk about her, needed to remember everything that was good about her.” He wiped his hand over his face, frowning. “I might be making a mess of this. I’m trying to make a point.”

“No. I get it,” I responded before he could continue.

“You do?”

Pressing my fingers against the base of one wine glass, I slid it away from me. Then I did the same with the other. We wouldn’t need them tonight after all.

“I do. So why don’t you just ask the question you want the answer to?”

I met his eyes. The light happiness of the day left me as the word ‘widower’ felt like it was being stamped across my forehead.

“It isn’t just one question. There’s something happening here, between you and me. And I want that very much. But there is a little boy involved.”

“Are you saying that I’m not taking him into consideration?” I snapped. I was getting defensive. He was confronting me about Tyler and also acting as though he knew what was best for my son. My teeth pressed together, causing my jaw to ache.

“No. I’m not saying that at all. I just...” He paused and looked at the ceiling. “I’m doing a terrible job here,” he muttered, shaking his head a little.

“Then just spit it out, Jude. Exactly what is it? Do you have a problem with the fact I have a son? Or do you have a problem with the fact that my husband died? Because that’s where all this is coming from, right? You figured out that I’m a widow. Now I’m damaged goods and anything with me would be a big deal.”

“No. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I was simply telling you that story so you could understand my perspective.”

“Your perspective sounds a lot like someone who doesn’t want to get involved with a widow.”

“That comment couldn’t be any further from the truth. I do want something with you, Sarah. I simply want you to be sure that you want something with me. Before this goes any further. And I want you to tell me about him.”

I took a step back, heat rising to my cheeks, my chest growing tighter. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be a Band-Aid to help you forget.”

“Can’t we just...wait? See how things go before...” I choked up, needing to force myself to swallow the lump in my throat before I could even think about continuing.

“That’s what I thought,” Jude said, standing up straighter. “You’re not ready.”

“Jude.”

“Listen, Sarah. I like you. A lot. A ridiculous amount, actually. So when you’re ready, you know where I am.” He was backing away, his eyes struggling to keep level with mine, his shoulders slouching a little even though his spine was stiff.

“Jude.”

“And I’m not a big dater, so odds are, I’ll be single for a very long time, so there’s no pressure from me. But when you come to me, well, if you come to me, I want you to come to me because you’re ready to have a...er...a relationship. Because that’s what I want with you, Sarah. I don’t want to be your friend. I don’t want to be the salve to your wounds. I want to be me, to you. But I only want that when you’re ready. Does that make sense?”

No. It didn’t make sense.

It felt like he was running away. It felt like he’d realised I had lost my husband and didn’t want to deal with it until I was completely ‘over it’. But I would never be ‘over it’. He either accepted that, or he didn’t.

I let out my breath. “It doesn’t make sense to me at all, actually. If I wasn’t ready, you wouldn’t be standing here and I wouldn’t be offering you wine to entice you to stay longer.”

“That’s not what I mean. I want you to be ready to talk about him. Like, what happened to him? How long were you together? Did Ty know his father?”

“You want me to relive my pain? I hate to break this to you, Jude, but I relive it every day. Talking to you about it isn’t going to change the fact that he’s dead and it’s not going to make you feel better about losing your mother, or your father becoming an alcoholic or whatever the hell you think dragging out my emotions is going to do for you. We’re supposed to ask each other about things that aren’t common: ‘What happened to your kid’s father’ is the most common question of them all.”

“I’m choosing not to take offense to that because you’re getting upset and I’m obviously not explaining myself properly.”

“No. You aren’t.” I folded my arms across my chest, watching him go through his confused movements—the shrugging, the head nodding, the muttering. He was a man with quirks, and I liked his quirks. I didn’t want him to walk away. But he was pushing and I didn’t want to share Tyler with him either, not yet, anyway. My love for Tyler was something I wanted to keep all to myself, held close to my heart in clenched fists. Perhaps that was the problem.

“I should go. Thank you for a lovely day, Sarah. I really do hope we can do it again sometime…when you’re ready.”

I turned my head as if slapped then closed my eyes, staying in the kitchen as I waited for him to turn to walk away. He got about three steps before I opened my eyes and called out, “How long did you know?”

He stopped then faced me. “Since that first day at the park when Ty told me his full name. I could see it written all over your face.”

My arms tightened around my body as I looked away, nodding slightly. Of course he’d worked it out. I carried my grief on my sleeve, flinched openly to any sort of reference toward Ty’s father. It would have been obvious, but he’d wanted to spend time with me anyway—what did that say about him?

I was too conflicted in that moment to focus on anything besides the fact that he was leaving. He was leaving because I didn’t want to talk about Tyler, didn’t want to open my heart and cry over all the broken pieces. He obviously wanted more than I could give. Which, I suppose, meant that he was right; I wasn’t ready at all.

Jude waited, standing in front of me with his hands in his pockets and his eyes studying my expression. I suppose he was hoping I’d start talking, start pouring out my sorrows so he could listen and feel more sorry for me. Perhaps he’d even nod his head and liken my loss to his, telling me he understood. But I didn’t want his understanding. I wanted him here because that’s when I could forget. Around him, I felt better.

Perhaps I was using him as a Band-Aid.

“Well, you know where to find me,” he said finally, his voice soft but edged with disappointment.

I nodded, my lips pulled tight as I watched him leave the apartment. Each step he took pulled a little at the pit that had formed in my stomach. His name sat on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to call him back, rewind time a little and end things on a happy note when I actually saw some kind of hope in my future. But when the door clicked shut and he was gone, I clutched my hand to my chest, struggling to breathe as the loneliness crept back in.

Everywhere I looked, Tyler was there. Now Jude was too. I pressed the heel of my palms against my eyes, breathing so I didn’t burst into tears. Damn you, Jude. Damn you, Tyler. I was tired of being alone. I was tired of feeling hurt. I was just so bloody tired.

And I was lonely. Alone.

So alone.

I don’t want to keep feeling this way.

I never should have let things with Sarah get this far.

My vision has been blurry and my scans are showing more lesions in my brain. I can feel another relapse creeping in and pressing at my ribs. It’s barely been a month since the last one.

Things are getting worse even faster than I expected, and it’s only a matter of time before I start losing my ability to function independently.

I can’t do it to her anymore. I can’t keep her in my life knowing where this is going. I can’t keep falling deeper, knowing that she is too. I can’t keep fooling myself. I can’t keep lying to her. But I can’t seem to stop either.

I love her. I love her so much that I don’t want to walk away. Not yet.

Loving me will break her. Loving her will damn my soul.

I’m going to go to hell for this.

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