Her hand was wrapped around his thumb.
Ryan hummed and smiled when she turned toward his voice.
He could be gentle. He could love them. Perhaps the girls could have that, and I could learn to live with the rest.
She turned toward his voice.
His income.
Most months without him. A family that still looked like one.
Then he laid Ava down and followed me to our bedroom.
I’d left a blanket on the couch.
“I’m not sleeping out there,” he said.
Most months without him.
“Ryan, I can’t just get into bed beside you.”
“You can’t keep punishing me for something that’s over.”
He climbed into bed.
“If you insist on treating me like I’m single, don’t act shocked when I act like it.”
I looked at the space beside him.
“I can’t just get into bed beside you.”
Staying would mean hearing that whenever I refused to pretend we were fine.
