“I know their names.”
“Then say them.”
“Kyra, I need a break with the guys.”
“You lied.”
***
I picked up my phone.
One of his friends, Ben, answered on the second ring.
“Hey, Kyra. How are the babies?”
“Did Ethan tell you I was going on this trip?”
“What? No.”
There was a pause.
“He said you wanted quiet time with the babies, Ky. He said you wanted to bond with them and asked for space.”
I looked around the room.
Three bassinets.
Two baskets of laundry.
Six bottles waiting to be washed.
“He said his mother was helping.”
“No one is helping.”
After a silence, Ben said, “Kyra, I didn’t know.”
“Now you do,” I replied before ending the call.
***
Only after all three babies were asleep did I walk into the guest room.
His resort shirts were folded in neat rows. His swimming trunks sat beside new sandals. His toiletries filled one side pocket.
I hung his resort clothes back in the closet and packed the unopened earplugs, sleep mask, parenting book, fatherhood shirt, one week of my feeding logs, and the barbecue photo.
On the back, I wrote:
“Your audience is waiting.”
I left him one clean outfit and basic toiletries. I wanted him exposed, not stranded.
Then I placed one more note on top.
“You survived six weeks by leaving every hard part to me. Congratulations.”
***
The next morning, Ethan kissed my cheek and wheeled it toward the door.
“Try not to stay angry the whole time I’m gone.”
I adjusted Tara’s blanket.
“Try not to mistake consequences for anger.”
He frowned, didn’t check the suitcase, and picked up his wallet.
***
At four that afternoon, he called screaming.
As Timothy finished his bottle, I listened to Ethan rage from his resort room.
“Marcus and Ben saw everything!”
“I know.”
“You planned this.”
“You had no right to drag my friends into our marriage.”
“You invited them on your fake solo trip.”
“I told them I needed a break.”
“You left your recovering wife with three newborns.”
“I deserve time away.”
“And I deserved a partner.”
Marcus spoke behind him.
Ethan moved away from the phone.
“Stay out of this.”
“You said she had help.”
“This is between me and my wife.”
Ben added, “Then maybe you should’ve stayed home with your wife.”
Ethan lowered his voice.
Marcus replied, “That’s the point. You don’t either.”
I heard a suitcase zip.
Then Ethan asked, “Why are you packing?”
“I’m going home, Ethan!”
“My wife struggled when I went back to work, and we had one baby. You left Kyra with three.”
Ben said, “I’m leaving too.”
“You’re siding with her without hearing me.”
“We heard you,” Marcus said. “That was enough.”
A door closed.
Ethan came back to the phone.
“They walked out on me.”
Tessa cried from her bassinet.
“I’ll stay the full two weeks just to spite you.”
“That’s your choice, Ethan. I can’t stop you.”
“You can’t stop me from coming home.”
“I’m not trying to.”
I lifted Tessa.
“But when you come home, you won’t move back into the guest room and live like you’re single.”
“Then come home and live like it.”
“Kyra, listen to me.”
“Tara is changed. Timothy has eaten. Tessa needs me now. I don’t have time for your tantrum.”
I ended the call.
