“I was surviving.”
That word stopped him.
Surviving.
I told him about the nights.
The pain.
The feeding schedule.
The endless crying.
The times I had nearly fallen asleep standing up.
The meals I skipped.
The showers I couldn’t finish.
The fear I felt when one baby became sick.
The loneliness.
“I begged you for help,” I said.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. Because you heard me and decided it wasn’t important.”
Ethan didn’t respond.
He Came Home Early
Two days later, he came home.
He had apparently decided that his vacation was over.
I didn’t celebrate.
I didn’t run into his arms.
I didn’t pretend everything was fixed.
When he walked through the front door, he looked at the three babies.
Then at me.
For once, he seemed to actually see me.
“You look exhausted.”
I stared at him.
“Now you notice?”
He swallowed.
“I’m sorry.”
I shook my head.