The Night We Met by Tara Taylor Quinn

hadn't noticed. "We didn't need them."
    Jimmy and Keith were both asleep, lying on pil ows in front of the television.
    "What's for dinner?"
    I had no idea. I stared at him blankly.
    "Eliza, you still have two healthy, growing children. They have to eat."

    "They had graham crackers."
    "That's al they've had al day?"
    "No." I frowned. Tried to be who he wanted me to be. "They had fruit, mixed vegetables and chicken and rice for lunch."
    "You fed Keith out of baby food jars?"
    "He likes it."
    "He's three years old."
    I had no reply to that. Nor to Nate's repeated attempts to rouse me enough to make dinner. It's not that I didn't want them all to eat. I did. But I didn't have the energy or the focus to prepare even the simplest meal.
    The thought of going through the cupboards to find out what was there made me dizzy. Nauseous.
    Jimmy was stil eating baby food, anyway. And Keith wouldn't mind it again. That just left Nate.
    In the end, he went out for hamburgers, taking the boys with him.
    I woke up when Nate crawled into bed beside me that night. Lying silently, waiting for him to settle with his back to me, listening for the relaxed breathing that would tel me he was asleep, I felt consumed by guilt. I'd let him down so completely.
    Let them all down.
    The mattress shifted, dipped close to my side.
    "Liza? You awake?"
    If I hadn't been, I would be now. Nate was sliding his arm beneath me, pulling me against him.
    He was so warm. I wanted to be held. And yet I was too cold to ever recover. I lay there, limp, letting him touch me, aware that his fingers were running lightly along my neck, but feeling nothing.
    "Come on, baby. No one else can do this for you. It's up to you."
    That's what he didn't understand. I was powerless.
    He kissed me then. A soft, tender caress that would have broken my heart with its sweetness if I'd had a heart left to break.
    "Kiss me, love." His tongue swept over mine, coaxing lips that were lifeless. "Let yourself feel."

    He thought I had control, that I could somehow make the numbness go away.
    When his hand moved to my breast, when my nipple quivered at his touch, I turned my back to him.
    Nate Grady was the temptation that had started me down this long road to hell—lured me from the life that would have protected me—and given me the sweet little spirits I'd inadvertently hurt with my weakness.
    Did Nate know that Sarah's death was my fault? My penance?
    Did he secretly hate me?
    I'd thought about Sister Michael Damien that day. I'd written to the sisters a few times after I left St.
    Catherine's. Sent them pictures of the boys when they were born, but I'd never heard back.
    All I could see now was the concerned look on Sister Damien's face the day I'd told her Nate was divorced— the day she knew I'd be leaving not only the convent, but the Church.
    "I'm not going to quit, Eliza." His voice was loud and clear in the darkness of our bedroom. Resolute.
    "We're a team, you and I. Part of the same whole. As long as it takes, I'm going to be here."
    With that, he rol ed over, his back to me, and went to sleep.
    I lay awake listening to him breathe—wishing I could find the escape of unconsciousness that had carried me through until that day—while tears dripped slowly down to wet my pil ow.

    * * *
I couldn't get up the next morning. I honestly tried. Nate cajoled. He brought the boys in, put them on the bed with me. I just couldn't do it. Filled with self- loathing, I was paralyzed with the fear of what I might bring to any day I entered.
    A part of me knew I was in trouble. That I should get help. But I couldn't bridge the gap inside me that would take me from realization to action. I could find no solace in my faith, in the Bible verses I knew by heart or even my precious Jane Eyre.
    Nate took the boys to work with him. I spent the day staring at the darkness in my mind.
    "Okay, that's it!"
    I jerked awake as the covers were torn from my body.
    "Look at you! You haven't been up all day, have