I almost did.
The old version of me would've made another list before he finished the sentence.
Instead, I shook my head.
"No. Watch them. Learn them. Be here long enough to know."
His face tightened.
"Be here long enough to know."
"And if I mess up?"
"You will."
He looked at me.
"So will I."
That surprised him.
I glanced at my cast.
"You will."
"I've spent weeks feeling like I'm failing because I can't even lift my own sons."
"Hope..."
"Let me finish. When this comes off, I get another chance to feel like their mom again. You can have a second chance too."
Derek leaned forward.
"At us?"
"At being better than you've been."
"Hope..."
I held his gaze.
"But I'm not dragging you there."
***
Over the next few weeks, he started showing up before I asked.
He left work on time twice a week. He added the boys' appointments to his own calendar. He learned that Luke settled faster against his chest and that Miles usually needed movement before sleep.
I held his gaze.
He still got things wrong.
I stopped rescuing him every time.
***
Three weeks later, my arm was healing well enough that I brought some of our things home.
Not everything.
Derek noticed.
"You're keeping clothes at your mom's?"
He still got things wrong.
"Yes."
"Because you don't trust me?"
"Because I'm learning to trust myself. If this falls apart again, I won't wait until I'm broken to do something about it."
That night, Miles cried from the nursery.
I started to rise.
"Because you don't trust me?"
Derek was already moving.
"I've got him. That's his tired cry."
He disappeared down the hall.
A minute later, the crying softened.
I picked up my tea.
Still warm.
I picked up my tea.
