Pieces of Him by Alice Tribue - Pre-Release Exclusive Excerpt

by Alice Tribue
Releasing January 25th
You want the truth?

The truth is there’ll never be enough time in the world to figure out how to go back.

I’ll never come up with a way to change the outcome.

The truth is I don’t need to hear I have a son.

I can’t deny it’s real because he’s the living, breathing proof my life is out of control.

But the truth is I love him.

The truth is it’s just him and me for the foreseeable future…

Until I met a girl who crossed my heart and changed it all.

Emelia was a bright star in my abandoned sky, and it would take a miracle to keep her there.

I’ll fight for miracles, though, because losing them would mean losing pieces of me.



I don’t speak; I just follow her into the nursery feeling as if the weight of the world is on my shoulders. I'm also feeling slightly panicked and enormously grief stricken. She instructs me to wash my hands and take a seat in an ugly green rocking chair while she washes her hands and gets the kid. While I wait, I contemplate getting a lawyer who can handle finding him a good home because I just can’t fucking fathom having to raise him. I didn’t want to do it with Keri, let alone by myself. I’m confident he’ll be better off somewhere else. Somewhere with people who actually want a kid, with people who actually know how in the hell to take care of him because I’m certain that if left with me, he wouldn’t last a day. I wouldn’t know the first thing about taking care of him. I don’t even have a crib, for fuck’s sake. Keri handled all that shit. I should definitely find a lawyer, or a social worker, or a priest. Someone like that.

“Here we go, Daddy.” The nurse comes back, her arms holding a tiny little thing wrapped up in a blanket. I barely catch a glimpse of his little blue hat and I want to bolt. I’m thinking she senses this when she says, “Just relax, sit back, hold out your hands, and I’ll do the rest.”

“I think he’s too small.”

“No, he’s just fine, almost eight pounds. He’s not as fragile as you think he is.” She smiles and bends down, gently placing him in my arms. “I’ll give you a minute alone with him,” she says. She’s gone before I can object. I let out a breath and look down at the sleeping baby in my arms and something strikes me. A pain in my chest, a pang of guilt, for bringing him into this clusterfuck of a life. I feel a sense of sadness that the only person who was willing to fight for him is gone, and I hate that for him.


Alice Tribue lives with her husband and daughter in New Jersey. She has a bachelors degree in communications and is currently working on her masters degree. She spends most of her free time reading, writing, and when the weather permits lounging out on a beach.

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