The Break(79)

“I’m sorry, too,” I say, barely able to get the words out. I’m sorry I’ve played along, that I’ve lied to you, that I’ve pretended not to know about your little boy, that I haven’t helped you try to remember.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Rowan says.

“Are you . . . ,” I start, because I want to know more about what Sylvie’s doing to her, I want to know if Sylvie’s close to fixing her. I want to mourn Gray with them; I want to go to the funeral if they have one. I want to take care of Lila when Rowan and Gabe need a break.

A toddler at the next table screams about needing more chocolate syrup in his hot chocolate, and two old women laugh. “Are you getting some good help?” I finally make myself ask. “Like a therapist, I mean? Or some medicine at least?” I feel duplicitous for knowing about Sylvie and acting like I don’t—this is exactly why I hate all of this so much.

Rowan looks surprised that I’ve asked this. “I am,” she eventually says. “A trauma therapist named Sylvie whom Louisa recommended, actually. Though I don’t know what good it’s doing.” She shakes her head. “I still can’t really remember the birth. Last night I dreamt of that day I collapsed and someone called an ambulance.”

I look down at Lila and try not to cry again. “Thank God she was all right,” I say, but then I panic, because obviously Gray wasn’t all right, and of course I want Rowan to remember Gray, but what if she remembers him right here inside this café, with all of these people around us, without Gabe by her side?

“June, listen,” Rowan says, and I can hear the effort it takes her to try to sound like everything is okay, like none of this is the end of the world. “I’m okay now,” she says, which cuts right to my gut. She’s so very far from okay. “Well, I mean, I think I am,” she says. “Nothing like that has happened again, what happened with you that night.” She takes a breath, her hand going to her coffee cup. “I’ve felt more like myself,” she adds, like she’s trying too hard to convince herself. She takes a sip of her coffee and avoids my eyes.

“Rowan,” I say carefully over the sound of beans grinding. “I need some time off from working for you.”

“Oh, of course,” Rowan says, looking like that was a given, which makes me relieved.

“I want you to know it’s not because of what happened,” I say.

I can tell she doesn’t believe me when she says, “Okay, sure.”

I need her to know it’s not what she did. “I care about you and Lila so much,” I say. “It’s more that I need to get away for a little while, and I’d been feeling like that even before everything happened. I’m going upstate to my parents’ house.”

“Oh,” she says, and then, “Where did you grow up?”

“Harbor Falls,” I say. I pull off a piece of my muffin and try to eat it like I’m okay, like my stomach isn’t so nervous.

Rowan nods like she’s heard of Harbor Falls, but usually no one who isn’t from upstate New York has. “It’s near Saratoga,” I say.

Rowan smiles. “Gabe and I went to the racetrack a few summers ago,” she says. “It’s gorgeous up there.”

“It is,” I say, not wanting to talk about what it was like to grow up there, because it’s too hard to talk about growing up without mentioning my mom. If I sit here and talk about how gorgeous upstate New York is, it feels dishonest in some way, like I’m painting a picture of something that never existed.

“I’m sorry, June,” Rowan says.

I feel myself about to cry again. I need to get out of here. “I know you are,” I say, and I feel the tears burning the back of my eyes. “And I am, too,” I go on, “that everything happened. I really am.”

“You didn’t do anything,” she says again, but I’m standing now.

“I should go,” I say, taking my earmuffs from my wrist and putting them on my head. I pack up my muffin and tuck my phone into my pocket while Rowan pats Lila’s butt, watching me, seeming nervous.



“Will you be okay getting home with Lila?” I ask, looking down at the profile of Lila’s delicate nose and chin.

“Yes, of course,” Rowan says, patting faster. “We’ll be fine. Thank you for meeting me,” she says, but I’m already edging away from them, from these people I love.

“Goodbye, Rowan,” I say.

The second I turn away from them, the tears fall over my cheeks. I push through the customers, feeling like I can’t catch my breath. I shove open the door and then I’m on the street, crossing it, tears blurring my eyes and seeing the taxi too late, hurrying to get out of the way and just missing being hit. I’m sobbing now. I’m just so incredibly sad for Rowan and Lila that my heart feels like it will beat free of my chest, and then I see Sean. He’s standing on the sidewalk, watching me in horror. He comes toward me, careful at first, then extending his arms to me. I feel like I’m going to pass out. I practically stumble into his arms, no other choice if I want to stay standing. He puts his face against my hair and whispers reassurances into my ear.

“Get me out of here,” I say, and away we walk, Sean’s arm around me keeping me upright.