I remove my seatbelt the second we pull up to the house. The lights are out. Panic rises in my throat as I jump out of his truck the moment he puts it in park. Lawson calls my name, but I ignore him.

Peering back down at my phone, there's not a single message from Miles. I called him on the ride over, texted him, and it's taking everything in me not to drive over to Kyle's and break down the door.

I'm inside the house before Lawson can catch up.

"Jackson?" I yell.

I run through the living room, the kitchen, flipping on every light along the way. Starting up the stairs, they creek, and my foot hits the step above and with a loud thump my hands crash down on it.

"Damn it."

Lawson is behind me, hands on my hips. I try to push him away. It's not that I'm not grateful he's supporting me, my mind is only focused on one thing. I rip away from his grasp and rush up the stairs, nearly crawling. At the top I stumble but right myself.

I check every room, and closet too, even though I highly doubt he'd be there. Reaching for my phone again, I sit on Jackson's bed. The phone rings and rings going to voicemail.

What if it's me? What if I'm the issue? I'm doing such a horrible job at parenting that he's run away.

"I swear to God, Miles, if you have our son, you are going to be sorry. Bring him home now!" I yell-cry.

The sobs have taken over, but instead of sitting there doing nothing I jump to my feet. Downstairs, Mom, and Lawson are talking, and I briefly see Anna sitting on the couch looking beside herself.

I race out the door into the darkness, not sure what else I can do, but go over to Kyle's myself. There are footsteps behind me and before I can reach the street a hand pulls me back.

"Hey, where are you off to?"

"Lawson, please let go. I have to go see if he's there..." I hiccup.

"The officers said to stay here. I know it's hard but–"

I spin to face him, already feeling guilty for the anger that is about to rage through me.

"HARD? You have no fucking idea." I immediately regret the words but can't stop. "Maybe you should go home. I'm sorry Lawson, I — I need to — I know you're trying to help, I appreciate it, I just... I can't right now." I shake my head, tears streaming down my face.

"You're not thinking straight, Nadine. I know you want to be out there, but the best thing to do is hang tight. Tara is out there, the officers..."

"It's not enough, dammit! He's only ten. He's out there, maybe alone, maybe with his jackass of a father spilling lies about me. I don't know." I squeak my last words. "All I know is that I need to find him. I have to make things right."

"You're doing nothing wrong," he says, his voice on the edge of anger.

"Clearly, I am if he's run away. Maybe I'm not mature enough to handle things. Handle my kids, my ex, you. My brain is —"

When I glance up into his eyes, the hurt behind them sparkles. His brows knit tightly together, and he retreats his hand from me. It's like he's seeing someone else standing in front of him. I'm going to screw this up like I do everything else, might as well let it all go now.

The man in front of me left his show, even though it was practically over, he left for me, and now here I am telling him to back off. That really does make me immature. I thought I was ready to move on, to handle my kids and a relationship, but it's becoming more and more obvious that I can't. I should step back and reevaluate things. Lawson and I jumped into this way too fast, and it kept me from paying attention to all the signs, and now Jackson is just gone.

"What are you saying, Nadine?"

"I don't know. Okay! I don't know. The only thing I care about right now is him. Maybe we should — you —"

His shoulders fall forward. He doesn't argue with me though.

"I'll — I'll search the neighborhood."

With a defeated sigh, he pulls his keys from his pocket, and heads for the truck. I'm stuck in this spot on the sidewalk, torn between telling him sorry and letting him go. My mouth opens to say something when a police car pulls up behind Lawson as he drives away.

I try not to let my heart feel anything and head for the officer. The tall bald one steps out, and we meet halfway.

"He's not at Kyle's. My partner is trying to get more info on this Kyle guy. There was a woman there and he's questioning her. She says she's seen nothing."

Running my fingers roughly through my hair, I tug on the end. He's got to be somewhere. I'm about to take measures into my own hands when an old jeep comes barreling down the road and parks in front of the police car.

Inside is Miles, beside him is Jackson. I don't even care that he was in the front seat, my brain immediately sets off for him. He opens the door and hops out onto the sidewalk in front of our house.

"Jackson!" I'm to him in seconds. I kneel and scoop him into my arms. He crashes down into me and holds on.

"I'm fine, Mom."

All I can do is sob. I have words, words that I need to express to him, but right now all I want to do is check and make sure he's okay. I pull away, inspecting every square inch.

"I'm fine," he says again.

"Jackson, you scared me. I thought something really bad happened to you."

"Mom. I gave Dad his watch. He said that he forgot it and had been looking for it. He still wanted it, still loves me. Please let us see him."

My brain goes from complete mush to that angry mode in seconds. I take Jackson's face in my hands. His smile kills me. He wants a relationship with his dad, but how can I give him that when I don't know if his dad will stay.

"Can you let go of me now?"

I obey his request, but don't move from my spot on the floor. "Have your grandma call Tara, she's out looking for you."

"Got it!" He leaps up off the ground and bounds for the house.

Mom yells his name, and I can hear her crying from here. Two Nike shoes step in front of me.

"Ma'am." The officer says from behind me. "Is this – should I hang around? Will you press charges?"

"I —"

I look up at Miles standing in front of me. The watch clasped around his right wrist. I shake my head. "No, not tonight, officer. It was a misunderstanding," I whisper.

"I didn't take him, if that's what you think," Miles says. "He came to me."

"You didn't answer your phone," I say, angrily swiping away the tears still falling.

"My phone battery died. And I swear to you, the boy found me. He said he heard our conversation the other night on the phone."

I'm still on the ground, staring up at him. His features are soft. The angry man from the art show isn't there. He sighs and kneels in front of me. He reaches out to touch me then pulls back.

"Everything I said to you is not a lie. I want to make this work, for the kids, for us. I know your already seeing—"

"I probably fucked that up tonight," I say, referring to Lawson. I sigh. "But Miles, that doesn't matter right now. I can't be with you. I'm sorry. I have to put my foot down. What's best for our children is that you and I are not together. We are the opposite of what I want them to see when it comes to relationships."

He lowers his head.

"We had good times. There's no denying that. The Camaro. Some of the best damn times of my life. But it's not who we are now. We aren't those kids who had no responsibilities. We have two of them now, and I feel like I'm failing them."

"So, that's why we need to show them that people change and that relationships work if you fight hard enough."

I can't stop the tears, they continue. While I do agree with him, I can't. I shake my head. "Sure, that's great for some people, but for others... like us ... no. I don't love you like that anymore. I'm sorry if it makes you angry, but I can't be with someone I don't love."

His eyes meet mine. Again, they are gentle, and I almost think I see a hint of the man he was years ago. I shake the idea because I wasn't happy anymore.

"I don't know what to do about you seeing the kids, and you have to know I'm not doing it to be a bitch. You left us, remember? You broke not only mine, but the kid's hearts. I don't want that again. You need to give me some time to decide what to do."

He tries to touch me again but doesn't. "I want to be in their lives."

"Then you shouldn't have left. You didn't want them, remember?"

"I was stupid then..." A pause. He scratches his face. "I'm going to get help for everything. The depression, the secret addiction to alcohol."

I should be shocked, but I'm not.

"Tonight, Jackson made me realize what I was missing." He stares down at the watch on his wrist. "He reminded me of why I came back."

"Then let's give it time."

The tears are slowly stopping.

"You go and do you and when you're done, we'll talk. I need to know you're not going to walk away again. I can't keep being weak. Not when their well-being is on the line," I say.

"Understandable. Can I — can I say goodbye?" he asks, his voice breaking a little.

"They're smart kids. Don't beat around the bush. Tell them why you're leaving."

"Thank you, Nadine."

He stands, holding a hand out for me to take. For a few seconds I stare up at the man I once loved. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing. As a parent, it sometimes feels impossible to do the right thing, but we do what we think is best for our kids. I take his hand and he pulls me up.

"Go ahead," I say.

He lets go and walks over. They are anxiously waiting for him in the doorway. Mom stands behind them and she looks to me, and I nod.

Tara pulls her car into the driveway as the three of them go inside. Her arms are around me instantly. Without anyone to see I sob into her chest. Dampening her shirt with my tears. She rubs my back, trying to calm me.

"I don't know if I'm doing the right thing," I say, stepping back.

"You're a good mom, Nadine. Parenting is not easy. I can see that. You can only do what you think is right. There's going to be curve balls, and you are going to fuck up left and right. But in the end, if you are there for them, that's what counts. Be there, listen to them, and I think you'll all be okay."

Miles clears his throat behind us. I turn. His cheeks, I see even in the dark, are tear stained. Behind him the kids' wave, and he looks to them, waving back, a watery smile on his face.

"Well, it's done. I'll uh —"

"Call me when you're ready, Miles. What you're doing takes guts."

His face flushes.

"Yeah. It's for them. Can you text me a picture or send updates in emails, something, anything to get me by."

"I'll try. Thanks for bringing him home."

"Of course."

He gives one last glance over my shoulder at the kids, then back down at the watch. Without another word he gets into the truck and drives away. Tara looks at me.

"I'll explain inside."

She throws an arm over my shoulder, then looks around. I can feel her watching me.

"I told him to leave," I say, lip quivering. I'm trying not to think about it right now. My kids need me.

"I'll let him know Jackson is safe," she whispers, holding out her hand for my phone.

"Thanks."

When I reach the kids, they both wrap their arms around me. I hold them a little tighter than usual. I pull back and look at Jackson.

"You and I need to have a long chat, buddy. Okay? But for now, who wants a late-night snack?"

Both Anna and Jackson stare up at me with teary eyes. "Ice cream?"

"At midnight?" I laugh through my tears.

"They say ice cream is the cure to heartbreak," Anna says.

I can't help it. I bubble over in laughter at her words. This girl is wise beyond her years. Mom snorts, shaking her head.

"Come on, let's get that ice cream," she says.

The three of them go inside, as Tara walks over. She hands me the phone and touches my shoulder. An understanding passes between us. She and I will talk later, but for now, it's time for some ice cream.

Prompt # 15 Prompt #12