SHATTERED BY CHOICE

Evelyn's POV 

The envelope sat in my bag as if it was a rock.

I had driven three times around the block before I parked. My hands were not shaking because of the cold. The air in the city of Harlow was warm that afternoon, the kind of warm that sits on your skin and refuses to leave. My hands were shaking because of what the envelope meant.

Eight years… Done.

I pulled my coat tighter and walked up the front steps of the townhouse. Anthony's black Range Rover was already in the driveway. He had not called to say he was coming. He never called anymore. That stopped being strange about six years ago.

The moment I pushed the door open, laughter hit me. The sound of the laughter was so loud and uncontrolled. I know that sound because only one person in the world produced it and that person is my smart son 

"Mom!" Luca ran at me from the living room, his socks sliding on the tiles. He grabbed my waist before I could even put my bag down. "Dad showed me this video of a dog stealing a whole birthday cake and running. The dog didn't even feel bad!"

"Of course it didn't." I planted a kiss on the top of his head. "Dogs never feel bad."

Anthony was still on the couch with his phone in one hand, the easy smile on his face already fading the moment his eyes landed on me. That was how it always worked. Luca's presence softened him. My presence reminded him of everything he didn't want.

"Your phone was off. I called but it said it was switched off," he said.

"I was at the lawyer's office." I set my bag on the side table and kept my voice steady. "The final papers were ready."

A muscle in his jaw tightened. He said nothing.

Luca looked between us. At eight years old, he had already learned to read the room. "Are you two going to be weird again?"

"Nobody is being weird," I told him.

Anthony stood, pocketing his phone. "I came to pick him up for the weekend."

"You could have texted."

"You wouldn't have seen it. Your phone was off."

That was the longest back-and-forth we had managed in two weeks. I turned away and went to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water, mostly to give my hands something to do.

I heard Luca ask his father something in a low voice, then I stopped pouring.

"Dad, why are you and Mom splitting up?"

The glass was cold in my grip.

Anthony exhaled slowly. "It's grown-up stuff, buddy."

"But I'm almost nine. I'm practically grown."

A short, rough sound came from Anthony. Something close to a laugh, but not quite. "Your mom and I... we just stopped being the right people for each other."

"Were you two  ever the right people?"

There was a long  loud silence.

I set the glass down without drinking a drop.

"That's not a fair question," Anthony said quietly.

"I'm just asking."

I walked back into the doorway. Anthony looked up and our eyes met. There was no anger in his face right then. Just tiredness. The deep kind that sleep doesn't fix.

"Luca, go pack your bag," I said. "Take your blue jacket. It gets cold at night."

He didn't move right away. He looked at me, then at his father, then back at me. "Promise you won't fight while I'm gone?"

"Go pack," Anthony said, his voice gentle but firm.

Luca disappeared down the hallway. The moment his footsteps faded, Anthony crossed his arms and looked at me. "Did the papers come through completely?"

"Yes."

"And the custody arrangement stands as agreed?"

"Everything is exactly as we discussed." I moved past him to straighten the throw on the couch, just to avoid standing still. "Your lawyer will receive copies by Monday."

He was quiet for a moment. Then, "I'm taking him to my parents this weekend. I'll bring him back Sunday evening."

"Fine."

"Evelyn."

Something in the way he said my name made me stop. He rarely used it. He usually said nothing at all.

"What?" I turned around.

He opened his mouth, closed it, and looked away. Whatever he wanted to say, he changed his mind. "Nothing important…Never mind."

Luca came back dragging a small bag and his blue jacket balled up under one arm. He hugged me so hard my ribs protested. I held him tight and breathed him in. His hair smelled like the strawberry shampoo he refused to give up.

"I love you, Mom."

"More than everything…you are my world," I whispered back.

He waved at me from the door. Anthony nodded once without quite looking at me, and then they were gone.

The house sat quiet around me.

I opened my bag and took out the envelope. I set it on the table, then I sat beside it and stared at it for a long time.

Eight years.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number. I almost ignored it, but something made me pick up.

The voice on the other end was familiar in a way that hit me low in the stomach.

"Evelyn." It was my mother's assistant. "Your mother has been in an accident. You need to come to the hospital right now.”