What was it like?
It was like flattering himself into believing he was trapped between two women, when the truth was simpler and uglier: one woman needed him, and one woman made him feel wanted without responsibility.
“It was a mistake,” he said.
“No, Mark. Forgetting milk is a mistake. Turning off your phone while your pregnant wife is in the hospital is a decision.”
Diane ended the call.
For the first time in his adult life, Mark stood alone with no one willing to soften the truth for him.
That evening, he went home.
The house looked exactly as he had left it.
That was the first thing that disturbed him.
The foyer smelled faintly of lemon polish. Emily’s sandals were still by the bench. A stack of baby books sat on the console table, each one marked with sticky notes in her neat handwriting.
Twin and Triplet Sleep Schedules.
