He turned serious. “Are you all right? I know it’s a lot.”
I took a deep, silent breath. It was a lot. I wasn’t truly all right. But I had to be. There really wasn’t an alternative. I needed to be—both for the kids and for their dad.
“Yeah.” I finally managed the one word answer.
He took a moment, too, and said, “I love you.”
I sighed, recognizing those words as a signal for the conclusion of our conversation. Although they were sincere and special and never lost their meaning, hearing them instantly deflated my soul. When I was speaking with him, I felt secure. I felt serene. But I knew the moment we would lose that phone connection…
“Lar?” he queried.
“It’s just…sometimes I wonder if that’s enough.”
“What?” His one word started with puzzlement but concluded with fear as he realized that the last comment he had said was that he loved me. His next two words were even more pronounced. “Lara? What?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just tired,” I tried with what was mostly the truth. “Go. Have fun. Make that crowd light up.”
“Lara!” He immediately admonished me before trying to take the lead in rectifying how I felt and what I said. “No! What did that mean? What do you need? What can I d—?”
“I need you, Finn,” I blurted out and then more softly echoed with, “I just need you.”