He hummed to her.
And when she turned toward his voice, he smiled.
For a moment, I saw what I had wanted so badly.
Their father.
Gentle.
Present.
Loving.
Maybe, I thought, they deserved that.
Maybe I could separate what he was as a husband fromwhat he could be as a father.
Maybe I could tolerate the marriage for their sake.
Then he followed me to the bedroom.
I had left a blanket on the couch for him.
He looked at it.
“I’m not sleeping out there.”
“Ryan.”
“No.”
“I’m not sleeping beside you.”
He climbed into our bed anyway.
“You can’t keep punishing me over something that’s finished.”
“Finished?”
“Yeah.”
“It happened. I’m home.”
I stared at him.
Then he said:
“If you insist on treating me like I’m single, don’t act surprised whenI behave like it.”
That was the moment I knew staying would destroy me.
