He avoided my eyes.
“Simon and Theo are picking me up. We’re going fishing.”
“Tonight?”
“For four days.”
I stared at him. He had planned an entire vacation without mentioning it.
“I need a break,” he said.
“So do I.”
“You get to stay home.”
I tightened my hold on Lila.
“Did you arrange for anyone to help me?”
“You’ve handled the girls before.”
“Not alone for four days.”
“They’re babies. Feed them, change them, and put them to sleep.”
“Then stay tonight and show me how easy it is.”
A car horn sounded outside. Brandon lifted the bag.
“I already committed.”
“To your friends,” I replied. “You committed to them without even speaking to your wife.”
He opened the door.
“I can’t do this right now.”
“If I called tomorrow and said I couldn’t manage, would you come home?”
He hesitated.
That pause gave me my answer.
“I need this trip,” he said.
“And I need a husband.”
Before leaving, he looked at the crying twins and said, “You wanted to be a mother, so act like one.”
For a moment, I could not breathe. We had spent years hoping for children, yet he acted as though the twins were mine alone.
He waited for me to beg him to stay.
Instead, I said, “Go. You’ve already chosen.”
At three in the morning, I sat on the nursery floor with one baby on each side of me and half a granola bar in my hand. Brandon had not called or asked about them once.
I almost messaged him for help, but deleted the words. I had already asked while he stood beside me. I would not beg now that he had chosen to leave.
The next morning, he posted a photograph from the lake.
“Finally getting the peace and quiet I deserve,” the caption read.
I took a screenshot.
Apparently, Brandon deserved rest, while I deserved whatever was left.
