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66 pages, ebook
First published April 2, 2013
He tucks his head against my neck, breathing warm against my skin, and I feel so guilty. So inadequate.
I should've canceled my office hours and stayed home with him. I should put him in daycare, but I can't afford it. My salary is pitiable,and I have loans to pay off. So I make do with a couple of babysitters, telling myself he's better off at home, spending as much time as possible with me.
But when I'm at home with him, I'm a distracted mother, always trying to get away with as much work or as much cleaning as I can. He wants nothing but me--my attention, my love--and I want to give it to him, only I want so many other things, too.
When Paige and I were kids, we both thought we'd have big families one day. I imagined a husband and three children, every little girl's version of domestic bliss. Then I went to college, and I spent the summer after my sophomore year as a camp counselor in Colorado. The job was relentless. Cabins full of eight-year-olds for three weeks at a stretch. They never stopped needing me for one second. I felt like I was suffocating.
That's when I decided I wasn't cut out to be a mother. I was always the better student, anyway. I focused on school and let Paige focus on motherhood. She found her husband, her scrapbooking group, her happy domesticity. I went to grad school and fooled around in an unserious way with unserious boys.
I pet Josh's back, breathing against the solid weight of his sleeping body pressing into my neck, my breasts, my belly. I wouldn't trade him for the world.
I want him to have everything, but all he has is me.
He’s the Man with No Name. He’s nobody. He’s every single man I walk past, every corner I walk around, every thought in my head.
That’s when I found him. Viscount Curzon. In his profile picture, he wore a cravat and a monocle.
In another one, he was Benjamin Piatt Runkle, a Civil War soldier. Under Accomplishments, he’d typed, Survived the Battle of Shiloh. His picture was tinted sepia, like a daguerreotype.