Mark didn’t just tell Mara; he handed her a reason to leave. He was the only person I trusted with the truth. But he decided it was information worth sharing with my wife so that she could make a different choice.
I put the note back on the dresser.
“I won’t waste my life on a broken man and changing diapers.”
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I picked up Katie, who was still crying, and I sat on the floor with my back against the crib and held her. My mother put Mia in my other arm without saying anything, and the four of us sat there in a nursery with yellow walls.
I didn’t resist it. I let all of it hit at once.
The sweaters were still tucked under my arm. I set them on the floor beside me. The white flowers were downstairs, where I had dropped them.
My mother put her hand over mine and did not speak.
I don’t know how long we were there.
I let all of it hit at once.
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At some point, both girls quieted. They had cried themselves into a still, heavy kind of sleep, and now they were just warm weight against my chest.
I looked at their faces in the yellow light of the nursery, and I made them a promise out loud, even though they couldn’t understand a single word of it: “You are not going anywhere, sweethearts. Neither am I.”
***
The next three years were the most demanding and the most defining of my life.
