Paige

PAIGE

Paxton has more energy this morning than usual, which would normally be great, but it's Monday morning, and I'm dragging ass. Every extra burst from him makes me later, and I'm trying to keep my cool, but my nerves are already frayed.

After Henry went home, I battled with myself over the decision not to let him stay. Which turned into anxiety throughout the night. I'm afraid that when I get to work, I'm going to see that patented disappointment on Henry's face and know that this is all over. Again. I'm not sure my heart can handle it.

I'll put my brave face on anyway, but doing as I must doesn't make me impenetrable.

Halfway through making Paxton's breakfast—an egg and cheese and potato burrito—my phone starts to ding. The first one I ignore, but it lights up again and again until I finally unlock it and have a peek.

Put on the local news. Now.

Jackie hates the news. What the hell? And why is he watching it at work when they're so short-staffed he had to pull two doubles in a row?

I grab the remote from Paxton and tell him to wash up for breakfast before I flip to channel three, and after a moment of confusion, I read the headlines scrolling across the bottom of the screen: Three Chief Officers of Rockwell International Caught with Young Employee…

The world falls away, and I'm left in a humming static for so long that I only come back when Paxton tugs on my slacks.

Blinking away the sudden terror, I set him up with his burrito and start scrolling through my texts and notification. It's everywhere . I can't scroll any of my social feeds without seeing some rendition of the article, the pictures of me with Eli at his desk, with Jake in his executive bathroom, with Henry's hand copping a feel of my ass at the Christmas party.

All of my hard work. Every long night and difficult assignment. Every ounce of sleep I lost trying to be a good mother and a good student. All of my struggles. They're all dust. They mean nothing now.

I'm officially the whore of Rockwell International and no one will believe that I earned my job instead of spreading my legs for it.

Numb pain digs a hole in my chest, worming wider and wider until I'm about to break in half.

Then, I see the final nail in my proverbial coffin: a picture surfaces with the rest. It's from the afternoon the four of us took Paxton sledding.

I drop my phone on the counter, overwhelmed with panic.

And something finally snaps.

"Bub, go get changed and pick out your favorite toy. We're going on a trip."

My son's eyes light up, and he abandons the syrup on his plate to does as I say.

"Clean hands first!"

He beelines to the bathroom like the good boy he is, and I'm dog-paddling my way to a saner lane of thought when it hits me all over again.

Oh God, my dad is going to see this. If he hasn't already.

Shaking, I dial the one person I know has probably not seen it, and even if she has, she won't care.

"Hey, Pebble. What are you calling so early for?" By the joking tone of her voice, I know she hasn't seen the news yet.

"Hey, Penny. I'm bringing Paxton up to visit. Is that cool? Sorry for the late notice." Please, please tell me you're not busy, and that we're welcome. I need your special brand of stability right now.

"Of course. I will never refuse a visit from you and Bub. We're long overdue anyway. He'll love the new blanket of fresh snow. It's perfect for snowballs and snowmen." The delight in Penelope's voice softens the hard ridges of fear inside me.

"Perfect. We're going to be on our way in a half hour, I'll text when we're near." Because I'm turning my phone off the moment this conversation is over.

"Sounds good, Pebble. See you in a few hours."

Thank God for her. She doesn't even ask me any questions about the timing, or whether or not I should be at work.

I check my phone's notifications one last time, hurt to find nothing from any of them—Jake, Eli, or Henry. Radio silence. It screams louder than anything else. Finally, I shut the thing off and get to it.

Packing is quick work, considering the three-year-old making a mess of things. Jackie arrives home as I'm lugging our bags to the door.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where are you off to with half of your belongings?" He doesn't wait for my answer, he simply pulls me into his arms for a strong, reaffirming hug.

"Hey, Jackie." I sink into the hug but don't let myself linger for too long. "Going to Penny's for the next few days. I just…can't be here right now."

Jackie cups my face, the love in his eyes so obvious that I nearly break down from the shock of this morning, but I can't. I have to keep it together. At least until I make it to Penny's cabin.

"Okay. But you're not leaving those stockings and the presents left here for you-know-who. He would be crushed. Let me pack them up, and I'll drive you."

"No. No, Jackie. No. You just worked all night. You have another shift in eight hours. I can handle it." Even if I don't technically have a car. I'll figure it out.

He gives me that you're-missing-something-important look, and I sigh, holding my palm up. Jackie drops his car keys easily into it, and tears threaten me so violently that I reel him into another hug.

"Thank you."

"Anything for you, Pepper."

I can't help but laugh at the old nickname, formed in our first class together before my end-of-semester presentation. He told me to sprinkle a little of that pepper you got on it , making it stick with my spicy attitude. Anytime I've needed a boost, he's called me Pepper.

"Now. Start lugging your entire life down those stairs. I'm parked in the basement."

Paxton squeals and throws himself at Jackie as I lug two bags out of the door. It takes four trips to get everything settled in the car, including all of the Christmas stuff.

"I'll call you when I get there. I'm leaving my phone off for the drive."

"You'd better." Jackie kisses me on the cheek and waves me off.

My son bounces in his seat for the first fifteen minutes before he conks out. Without the phone to entertain him, he just drops right off. I spin through radio stations, but for most of the three-and-a-half hour drive, my mind is circling around and around the news articles, the headline on channel three, the pictures…

Oh God, the pictures.

A few times, I talk myself out of a complete breakdown, and by the time I pull into Penny's parking area, I'm exhausted.

Paxton wakes up, recognizing the cabin. He sits straight up. "Mommy? Be here for Christmas? Will Santa find us? Is Dada coming?"