Then at him.
“For how long?”
“Two weeks.”
I laughed once.
A sharp, disbelieving sound.
“You’re going on vacation?”
“It’s not really a vacation.”
I looked at the suitcase.
“What is it?”
“A reset.”
I said nothing.
He continued.
“I need to get my head right.”
“If I stay here like this, I’m going to become resentful.”
I almost asked.
Become?
Instead, I said.
“Eric, we have three newborn daughters.”
“I know.”
“And you're leaving me here alone?”
He finally looked at me.
“You’re stronger than I am.”
I stared.
That was supposed to be a compliment.
He even said it gently.
As if my strength were a resource he could exploit.
As if being stronger meant I needed less support.
I whispered.
“That doesn’t make this okay.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
“You’re still going.”
“Yes.”
I felt something inside me crack.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
The way ice breaks beneath too much weight.
I asked.
“When did you book this?”
He hesitated.
That mattered.
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
My mouth went dry.
“Three weeks ago?”
“Yes.”
Before the girls were even born.
Before we knew whether they would need NICU care.
Before I knew whether I would need surgery.
He had already planned his escape.
“You booked a two-week vacation before I went into labor?”
“It was refundable.”
“But you didn’t cancel.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew I might need it.”
I stared.
“You knew you might need a vacation after I gave birth to triplets.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Please don’t say it like that.”
“How should I say it?”
He did not answer.
Then he added.
“Your sister can help.”
I almost laughed again.
“My sister works.”
“She said she could come over.”
“Sometimes.”
“That’s enough.”
“For three newborn babies?”
Eric looked toward the nursery.
Then away.
“I can’t do this conversation.”
I said.
“You can’t do this conversation.”
He picked up his suitcase.
I felt panic rise.
Not because I wanted him near me.
Because I was scared.
Physically scared.
Three babies.
One recovering mother.
No guaranteed help.
I said.
“Eric.”
He stopped.
“Please don’t do this.”
For one brief moment, I thought he might put the suitcase down.
