It's been a tough stretch for me since Betty walked out on me and Karis. It's been three months now. I've been struggling to keep hold of things, taking care of Karis, taking care of myself, with the weight of office work piling on top of it all and wearing me down bit by bit, day after day, to the extent even my own reflection in the mirror have started looking tired.
I was already awake when the alarm started beeping.
It was 5:45 a.m. I've grown so used to the time that these days I usually wake before the alarm even gets the chance to go off, most times lying there in the dark for a few seconds before reaching over to silence it anyway.
The atmosphere in the apartment now had a texture: silence and absence, and that had become the new usual, the new normal, replacing whatever noise and warmth used to fill the place before.
I yawned, dragging myself off the bed to get ready for work, and padded toward the bathroom, careful not to wake Karis, who was still curled up asleep, one arm hanging off the edge of her small bed.
I took my bath, dressed, and stood rolling up my sleeves in front of the mirror while the apartment stayed quiet around me, the kind of quiet that used to bother me and now just felt familiar.
On my way to the fridge, I sighed, staring at the exact spot where Betty had left the note before she walked out.
A note that left nothing behind but a mess. It disturbed my sanity completely, but I don't blame myself for any of it — she wanted more, more than I could ever give her. more than she saw in Karis and left, so undisturbed about her own child, the baby she left crying in her crib the entire night while I was still out working.
I shook my head, forcing the thought to go elsewhere, and opened the freezer to pull out the fruit salad I'd bought for Karis on my way home the night before, setting it down on the counter for her breakfast.
"Wakey, wakey. Karis, darling, it's time to rise," I called out.
She moaned into her pillow, signaling she wasn't ready to get up yet, burrowing further under the blanket.
"Five more minutes, Dada," she hummed, muffled.
"You said that four minutes ago, darling,"
I reminded her, leaning against the door frame with my arms crossed.
"Your day-care aunt must be missing you already," I said, just to get her moving and it worked.
She jolted up and rushed off toward the bathroom, her small feet slapping against the floor.
I chuckled to myself, shaking my head as I went back to getting the morning in order, laying out her clothes on the bed before heading to the kitchen to pack her lunch.
By the time we were both dressed and fed, I dropped Karis off at day-care with a quick kiss on her forehead and a promise to pick her up early, then made my way to the office, the drive there quieter than usual, my mind still half-tangled in thoughts of home.
As soon as I got to the office, Peter showed up at my desk with a folder, carrying a couple of crime scene photos along with it, dropping them onto my desk without much ceremony.
"I can't seem to find the file, Mr. Woods," he said, in a tone that was clearly trying and failing to sound professional.
I chuckled, leaning back in my chair. "What file?"
"The Hendricks report, you said you'd bring it in today."
I sighed into realization.
I had indeed said that, but I'd left it open on the kitchen table with Karis's crayons scattered across it, no doubt covered in her scribbles by now.
"I left it at home, so sorry," I said, rolling my eyes at myself for the slip, rubbing a hand over my face.
Peter dropped into the chair across my desk the way he always did, settling in like he had all the time in the world, stretching his legs out in front of him.
"Man, you need to cheer up, you need to do something, you definitely can't continue like this."
"Like what, Peter?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Like this." He gestured at me — the crooked shirt I hadn't even noticed, pointing with an exaggerated flourish.
"You are a mess, Jeth. Simply go for the lady I spoke to you about."
I rolled my eyes at him, shaking my head slowly.
"Nah, I'm not ready for love yet."
"Come on, man, Karis loves her, you like her as well. Just stop the pretense.
Betty didn't know the value of what she had."
"Speaking of Betty…” Peter continued, and something in his tone made me look up from the papers on my desk
"The sugar daddy dumped her off already."
I felt the words settle somewhere in my chest, but I couldn't tell if it was relief, anger, or nothing at all, the news landing strangely flat.
"Not my problem anymore," I said finally, and I meant it or at least I wanted to mean it, forcing my attention back down to the folder in front of me.
Peter nodded slowly and patted my shoulder before heading back toward his own desk, pausing halfway to glance back at me.
"Pick up that file before the Captain asks for it. Make sure to go home early, get Karis, and say hi to your miss lover for me."
He winked, laughing, already walking away.
I threw an imaginary object at him, shaking my head as he disappeared behind the row of desks, his laughter still trailing back toward me, and despite myself, the corner of my mouth pulled into something close to a smile