Page 67 of Romancing Christmas

“Hey, it’s me.”I hear my ex-husband’s voice.“Can you give me a call?”

Then I touch the next voicemail.

“It’s me again.Nicholas is having some lightheadedness this morning.Got really dizzy after sledding with some neighborhood kids.Has he had this lately?Give me a call when you get this message.”

My heart rate quickens.

“Hey,” Bryant says in the last one.“Whereareyou?I’m going to take him to the ER, just to be on the safe side.Give me a call when you can.I’ll pick up if I hear it ring.You know how it is in ERs.Sometimes the signal isn’t good.But, uh… call just the same.Or text—a text might get through better.”

“This was from two hours ago,” I murmur, glancing at the time the message came in.I immediately text Bryant the words, “On my way.Any update?”

“I’ll drive you up there.”

Harris’s voice seems distant to me, as though he’s existing in an entirely different plane of reality than I am right now.

“No,” I say immediately—more firmly than I intended.“I’ll drive myself.”

“Ava, I’m not letting you drive all the way to Philadelphia when you’re upset like this.”

I feel my features harden, and the brief haze of panic I allowed myself melts away.“I’ve done this before, Harris.I’m perfectly capable of doing it again.”

“But you don’t need to.I’m here for—”

“No, Harris.This—this is when I start acting like a mom again.If I’d been acting like one before, I wouldn’t have forgotten to bring my phone.”

“It was an easy mistake to—”

“A mistake I can’t afford.Dammit, I should bearrivingat the ER now.Not just starting off.”

“We’ll leave right now.”

“I’ll leave right now.I’llleave.Not you.I’m his mom.This is my life.This is what I do.”

My tone is unintentionally harsh as I grab my purse from where I left it and shove my phone inside it.I pull a couple sodas from the refrigerator for the drive and flick off the lights.

I’m on auto-pilot, just as I’ve been before in these situations.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to drive you?”he asks.

“The only thing I need you to do isleave,” I say as I head toward my door.My tone softens slightly.“Thank you—really.But I need to go, and I need to do it on my own.”

He nods.“Go.I’ll lock up your house.Just please text me when you get there.”

I nod and dart out my door to my car.I throw my bag into the passenger seat.

My mom-bag.Not the pretty little designer purse Harris bought me.And the sight of it somehow slaps me in the face.

What kind of a mom am I, leaving my phone behind like that when I have a kid whose heart is fragile?

I need to have focus.I need to be strong.I need to rely onmy ownstrength, not leaning on someone who will be gone in six months.

I pull onto Route 2, headed toward the expressway.

There was this split second when I actually was tempted to let Harris drive.Hell, I was tempted to retreat to his arms and sob because the fear I feel in moments like this always threatens to overwhelm me.

How tempting it was to just letsomeone elsebe strong for me for a change.

When I was married, Bryant was always the weaker of the two of us.I knew it the moment we first learned about Nicholas’s heart.