Free My Life in Reverse by Casey Harvell Page A

inevitable thing that we both know but don’t want to face. I pack and get ready. I write a note on his mirror in lipstick. It says BBS.
    I hope it’s not a lie.
    When everything’s as done as it can be, I join him on the couch. We both procrastinate, as if it’ll stop my departure. Finally there’s no more ignoring it.
    I spend the ride to the airport trying not to cry. When we pull up to the doors, we each snap a pic together. It’s so fucking bittersweet to leave this man.
    I give him the biggest hug I can and the softest kiss I have. “I’ll see you soon.” I manage to say without bursting into tears.
    He reaches into his pocket. “I want you to take this. I’ve had it since I was little.” It’s a little pewter statue of the see-no-evil, hear-no-evil, speak-no-evil monkeys. I grip it tightly in my hand.
    “Thank you.”
    One more embrace and I go into the airport. At the desk they tell me I’m too late. I whip my phone out.
    “Hold on, I missed my flight lol. Don’t go yet!”
    “Uh-oh. Okay, I’m still out front.”
    The woman behind the counter must see my anxiety. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.” She tells me. “I can have you out on a flight tomorrow morning. Just make sure you’re here an hour early.”
    “Okay, thank you.” I agree. “Is there any charge?”
    “Nope, you’re all set.” She assures me.
    The definite downside to this is the static I’m sure to catch from the home front. But as much as I want to see my kids, another part of my soul rejoices at the prospect of one more day and night with my favorite adult. From the grin on his face when I meet him outside, he doesn’t mind keeping me for an extra day, either.

    That night…
    My oldest texts me, upset…

    This poor kid. It enrages me to know he tries to spy on our private conversation—a conversation between a mother and her child. He places so much unnecessary stress on their tiny shoulders to fit his own selfish needs. He’ll never put anyone before himself—never.

7 months ago (the following day)…
     
    The trip home is hard. By the time I hit the train, the stress sets in.
    “Let me know when you get to your car safely.” My favorite adult messages. He’s been in touch all day.
    “I will.” I reply. “Hey?”
    “What’s up?”
    “Do me a favor? Don’t disappear on me? You matter. Usually when someone matters, they go away.”
    “I’m not going anywhere.”
    I smile through the tears. “Kk.”
    My car’s right where I left it. I get in and prepare myself to go home. I can’t wait to see my kids and my dog. The thought of seeing him again kills me, though. I need to build up my emotional walls again and prepare for the hatred that spews off of him .
    It’s hard.
    My phone rings and it’s exactly what I need. My favorite adult talks me through the drive home. He reminds me that I’m worthy.
    “Just look at those monkeys when he starts.” He tells me. “See no evil, hear no evil.”
    “And speak no evil,” I add.
    “Exactly.”
    “I’ll message you later.”
    “Be careful.”
    “I will.”
    The driveway brings such bittersweet emotions. My kids are in there—my heart…but so is the man who so obviously wants to destroy me. What other goal can he possibly have but to take until I am no more?
    I steel myself for the impending encounter. I pull my shit together for my kids. Somewhere deep within me is a voice—and it’s pissed AF. It tells me I can do this. Somehow, some way, I’ll persevere…
    Or fucking die trying.

    The next morning…
    How quickly everything falls back into place. The kids are off to school, he goes off to work.
    And I spring into action.
    He says he tried to clean up while I was away. What he really meant was he went through all my shit. No matter. There’s nothing to find. I may have a secret or two now, but they’re the first in fourteen years. Can’t find what’s not hidden.
    Despite my loathing of lies and liars (after living with one for so