She watched idly as Paige went to Disney Plus and started scrolling through some of her familiar favorites. She didn’t realize until about twenty minutes into Coco that she was still holding Paige’s hand and that her daughter’s head was resting on her shoulder. A very sudden surge of emotion tore through Rachel and before she knew it, her eyes were watering with tears.
She blinked them back and subtly wiped them away, not wanting Paige to see. She already knew something was off between her parents. Seeing her mother—who rarely cried at all—crumple into a sobbing mess was only going to make matters so much worse.
“Hey, Rachel?”
She turned to the right, toward the kitchen, at the sound of Peter’s voice. It was soft, nearly in a whisper. He looked a little more at ease than he had in the last two days, so that was good.
“Can we talk for a second, in the kitchen?” he asked.
Rachel nodded, then gave Paige a kiss on the forehead. Immersed in the movie, Paige barely noticed she had moved. Rachel walked into the kitchen, grabbed a water from the fridge, and sat at the bar. Peter did not sit. He stood on the other side of the bar, as rigid as a statue, and Rachel noticed for the first time that he looked scared. His dark hair was in disarray and his eyes looked uncertain—a rarity for Peter Gift. He almost looked like the nervous college sophomore she’d met so many years ago and it hurt her deeply—not the appearance, but the sting of the sweet memory.
“It’s been a rough few days,” he said simply.
“That’s an understatement.”
He furrowed his brow at this, as if upset that she’d dared to make such a flippant remark. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. Literally all day, trying to figure out what we need to do next in order to get over this. But I can’t come up with anything because there are these two enormous obstacles. Not just one thing to get over, but two. And the more I think about them, the more I realize that you kept them from me.”
“Peter, I know. But you—”
“You knew about the tumor for three entire weeks before you bothered telling me. You even went to visit Grandma Tate after getting the news and then came home upset about her diagnosis! You’d think that living through that would have spurred you on, but no. No, you kept it in…and I just can’t figure out why.”
“I had to process it myself, Peter. It was more than just telling you; it was telling Paige. And my God, I still have no idea how to—”
“I know. You’ve mentioned it numerous times in the last two days.”
“Well, it’s the only answer I have!”
She caught herself here, realizing how loud her voice was getting. They stared at one another for a handful of seconds, not speaking. She’d never seen him so angry before. It was chilling in a way she’d never quite experienced.
“But it’s the Alex Lynch thing that really gets me,” he said, also making sure to keep his voice low. “Somehow, he got to someone. He had someone break into our house and go into our daughter’s room. And why? Because you paid him a visit and stirred shit up again!”
“Peter, you—”
“No,” he shook his head and took a very deep breath. She noticed that he shuddered a bit when he let it out. He was really worked up. “I’ve spent the bulk of our marriage watching you throw yourself into your work, something I used to really admire and respect about you. But lately it’s been too much—especially now that I know about the tumor. You chose to go out to work with that thing in your head before telling your husband and your daughter. That hurts in a way I can’t even explain and…I don’t…”
She reached out across the bar for his hand, but he would not give it to her. “Peter…”
He turned away from her, looking toward the kitchen sink. “I’ve spent the past half an hour or so packing a bag. I’m leaving, Rachel.”
“What? You can’t be seri—”
“This is all too much, and it’s a double shot of proving how you’ve never put us first. It’s always been work. And this tumor…you making the choice to not be treated for it? I love you, Rachel but that is the most selfish thing you can do. And I have no intention of just standing by and watching you die. And expecting Paige to do it is damn near monstrous.”
Rage welled up in Rachel, but it was quickly overcome with the reality of what Peter was saying. As if sensing this, he said it again.
“I’m leaving. And I don’t think I’ll be coming back. We can discuss how things will work with Paige over the next few months, but not right now. Right now, I just need to be away from you.”
“Peter, you can’t…”
“I can and I am. I need to be away from you right now. I need to be alone.”
And with that, he started up the stairs. Rachel wanted to call after him. She wanted to chase after him, to beg him to reconsider. But instead, she simply remained seated at the bar. She felt something start to come apart inside, an emotional wall that started to come down. She felt as if someone had reached into her stomach and tied her guts into knots.
Rachel sat there for a very long time, listening to the sounds of Paige’s movie and the muffled sounds of Peter moving around upstairs. She didn’t move until Peter was back down the stairs. He was carrying an overnight bag and his eyes were red. Apparently, he’d been crying upstairs.
“Peter…you don’t have to do this.”
He only shook his head at her and looked into the living room. “With the mood I’m in right now, I don’t know if it’s the smartest thing for me to take her with me. Can you be a present mother for another few days and be with her?”
“Yes.” She wanted to lash out at him but deep down, she knew he was right. Still, her bitter tongue had to have its say. “Besides, your selfish decision shouldn’t cause me to lose time with her.”
“My selfish decision? Are you serious?”
But he was shaking his head again right away, not wanting to delve into an argument over it. “I’m going to check into a hotel. I’ll text you when I’m settled.” He headed for the door and turned back to her one last time. “You need to tell Paige about what’s going on with you. The sooner, the better. Think of how you would have felt if Grandma Tate had kept it from you.”
That said, he went out the back door quietly. He didn’t say goodbye to Paige, and he didn’t seem torn about it at all as he made his way out of the back door. Rachel knew this was unfair, though; he was likely hurrying out because it was so painful. She thought it was a rash and brutal decision, but she had to admit she could understand the pain of it all.
She remained in the kitchen for another five minutes, making sure she wasn’t going to break. She knew she needed to respond emotionally but could not do it in front of Paige. She walked into the living room, where Paige was still watching her movie. “Hey, sweetie. I’m going to go upstairs for a minute, okay? And Daddy just left for a bit. Are you okay down here by yourself for a few minutes?”
“Yeah, Mom,” she said, still starting at the television. She was so transfixed by the movie that she didn’t even bother asking where her dad had gone.
Rachel started up the stairs and that sense of her house being one big tomb was stronger now. She wasn’t sure where Peter was going or when he’d step foot back in the house again—if ever. It made the lonely feeling, the cumbersome sadness of every room and corner, so much worse.