CHAPTER 1: THE REQUEST
The girls were both crying.
Lila had started first, her wails piercing through the house like a siren. Then Ivy joined in, her voice rising to match her sister's. I stood in the middle of the living room, bouncing one baby in my arms while trying to reach the other, my ears ringing, my head pounding, my body screaming for rest.
Dirty bottles filled the sink. Laundry was piled high on the couch. I hadn't eaten a proper meal in two days.
When Brandon came home, I felt a flicker of hope.
"Could you wash the baby bottles?" I asked, my voice cracked and desperate.
He looked around the room with irritation.
"I'm tired of coming home to screaming babies and dirty dishes," he said. "And you always look overwhelmed."
I stared at him. "I am overwhelmed. I haven't slept in months. I need help."
He sighed like I was being unreasonable.
Then he dropped the bomb.
"I'm going on a fishing trip with the guys. Four days. I need a break."
"A break?" I repeated. "How am I supposed to manage two babies alone for four days?"
He barely stopped packing.
"You wanted to be a mother," he said. "So act like one."
The words hit me like a slap.
After everything we'd been through to have those babies—the fertility treatments, the miscarriages, the heartbreak—he spoke as though they were only my responsibility.
I didn't cry.
I didn't argue.
May you like
I just stepped aside and let him leave.
And in the silence of the door closing behind him, something inside me shifted.
