Then I removed the expensive resort clothes he’d carefully folded.
I replaced them with something else.
Something that belonged to the reality he was leaving behind.
I packed bottles.
Diapers.
Burp cloths.
A stack of baby blankets.
Three onesies.
Several packets of formula.
A breast-pump manual.
A parenting book.
And finally, I placed a handwritten note on top.
I closed the suitcase.
Then I put it exactly where I’d found it.
I went back to bed.
For the first time in weeks, I slept for nearly three uninterrupted hours.
Goodbye
The next morning, Ethan woke up excited.
He showered.
He dressed.
He grabbed his suitcase.
Then he walked into our bedroom.
The triplets were awake.
One was crying.
Another was making tiny noises.
The third was staring at the ceiling.
Ethan leaned down and kissed my cheek.
“Try to relax.”
I almost laughed.
Instead, I said:
“Have a safe flight.”