The words landed softly, but they struck deep.
He leaned against the car.
“Did she say where she was going?”
“No.”
“Mom, I need to find my family.”
Diane was quiet for a long moment.
“Then start by admitting what happened.”
“I missed the surgery.”
“You missed four days.”
He had no answer.
“And, Mark?”
“What?”
“Madison called the house yesterday.”
His blood chilled.
“What?”
“She said she was worried because you seemed ‘distracted after the luncheon.’ She asked whether Emily had calmed down.”
Mark pressed his lips together.
Diane let out a small, bitter laugh.
“Your wife almost died giving birth to your daughters, and that woman thought Emily needed to calm down.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like?”
He looked across the garage at the gray concrete wall.
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.
Premature Infant Care.
Postpartum Recovery After C-Section.
He had laughed once at the pile and told her she was turning motherhood into graduate school.
She had smiled then, but he remembered now how slowly the smile had faded after he walked away.
The nursery door was closed.
Mark stood outside it for nearly a minute before turning the knob.
Inside, everything was ready.
Three white cribs lined the soft gray wall.
Above each one hung a wooden name sign.
Grace.
Lily.
