“Nothing concrete,” Thea said.

Amelia looked up with a chocolate ring around her mouth. “We’re going to see Grammy and Papa in Ohio for ’Sanksgiving.”

Ah, shit. Thea hadn’t yet told the girls that their plan to visit Gavin’s parents was cancelled. She’d hoped they’d forgotten about it since it had been more than two months since she and Gavin had even talked about it. But little girls rarely forgot about trips to see grandparents who spoiled them.

“Well, that was our plan, but, um—” Thea searched the air for an excuse but came up empty. Her ability to lie on command was quickly losing power. “But it turns out we’re just going to be sticking around here.”

“But I want to go see Grammy!” Amelia whined.

“Me too,” Ava said, her voice an octave higher than Amelia’s.

Thea rested a hand on Ava’s leg. “Sweetie, we’ll talk about it later.”

“But why can’t we go?” Amelia asked.

“Amelia,” Gavin said quietly but firmly. “Mommy said w-we’ll talk about it at home later.”

“But you don’t come home anymore!”

The record-screeching silence that followed was so cartoonishly comical, Thea half expected to hear the chirp of crickets next. “Well,” Stella said, her cheeks pinking as she failed at pretending she had no idea that Amelia had just announced to the entire restaurant that Thea and Gavin were separated. “It was awfully nice to see y’all again. I’ll leave you to your dessert.”

She walked away, and then the real chaos started.

“Can we please go to Grammy’s?” Amelia asked.

“Not this year, honey,” Gavin said.

“But why not?”

“I’m too busy with baseball stuff, sweetie.”

Ava slumped in her seat, her lips pouty.

“Can Daddy read to us tonight?” Amelia said.

Thea dug her fingertips into her temple. “Honey, Daddy can’t do that tonight, OK?”

“Why not?” Amelia asked, her lip beginning to quiver.

“Hey,” Gavin said, tugging Amelia against his side. “I will read to you guys soon, OK?”

“But I want tonight!” The dam burst. Tears fell down Amelia’s face.

Which made Ava start crying, because that’s what twins did.

And when Ava started crying, she got really loud. And suddenly she blurted, “I don’t want Daddy to play baseball!”

There was another stunned silence, and then Ava began to sob louder. And then Amelia yelled, “I don’t want Daddy to play baseball either!”

And by now the entire restaurant was staring. Gavin let out a quiet dammit under his breath and dragged his hands down his face.

Thea’s entire body trembled as she wrapped her arm around Ava’s shoulders. “Honey, why don’t you want Daddy to play baseball?”

Ava wiped a hand across her face, smearing the white dots from her fawn makeup into long streaks down her cheek. “Because it makes him go away, and you guys say mad words at each other.”

Thea’s eyes shot up and collided with Gavin’s. She read her own thoughts in his eyes. “When did we say mad words at each other?” Gavin asked.

“When Daddy hit the big home run.” Ava hiccupped. “You made fighting noises and then said mad words.”

Heat rushed up Thea’s neck and face, followed immediately by gut-clenching comprehension. Ava had apparently woken up that night, and not only had she heard them having sex—that’s the only thing fighting noises could mean—she then heard their fight afterward.

Thea’s head moved as if encased in a Jell-O mold as she once again lifted her gaze to Gavin. They locked eyes—his pained, hers cloudy.

The girls were crying. People were staring. Something cold washed over her skin. Before she could stop herself, she opened her mouth and said, “You know what? How about if Daddy does come home and reads to you tonight? Would that make you feel better?”

* * *

• • •

 Gavin paid the bill as Thea ushered the girls out to her car. He followed them home in the dark, his hands clenching the wheel and gut churning. How long would it take for him to stop replaying Ava’s words? It makes him go away and you say mad words at each other. What the hell had he done to his children? To his family?

He pulled into the driveway behind Thea. She refused to meet his eyes as he helped to unbuckle the girls from the back seat. Butter greeted them at the door.

“Baths first and then Daddy can read to you?” Thea asked as she hung up the girls’ coats. Her voice had a brittle quality to it, as if she were one tense exchange away from either shattering or going full wrecking ball on the wall again.

“I’ll let Butter out,” Gavin offered.

Thea responded with a stiff thank-you, and he’d never felt so much like a visitor in his own house. As Thea walked upstairs with the girls, he led Butter to the back door. The smell of dust and drywall clashed with the familiar scents of home—Thea’s lotion, the lavender candles she was always burning, the undercurrent of dog, and the ever-present tang of markers and paint from the girls’ arts and crafts. By the time Butter was done circling the yard for the perfect spot to piss, Gavin could hear the tub running upstairs. He jogged upstairs and knocked on the closed bathroom door.

“Do you want help?” he asked.

Thea answered no.

The sense of being a stranger returned as he hovered outside the door. He looked to his right to the master bedroom. Their bedroom. He walked toward it and stood in the open doorway. Thea hadn’t made the bed that morning, and the sight of the rumpled sheets brought a slam of regret to his stomach as powerful as a sucker punch. The last time he’d been in their bed had been that night. One of the most amazing moments of his life, followed almost immediately by the worst.

“What are you doing?” Thea said behind him. He turned around. He hadn’t heard the bathroom door open, but his daughters now stood in the hallway with matching towels wrapped around them.

“Nothing,” he said. “I just—I’ll help get them into their pajamas.”

Silence reigned as he and Thea worked together to dry the girls off and thread their arms and legs into matching unicorn pajamas. Thea stood then, collected the wet towels, and told them to pick out a book while she changed her clothes.

The girls settled on a story about a raccoon who gets lost on his way to his grandma’s house for Christmas. They had just settled on Amelia’s bed when Thea walked back in. She had changed into a pair of sweatpants and his old Huntsville Rockets minor league sweatshirt, the one she’d claimed shortly after they started dating. He’d lost all coherent thought the first time he saw her in it. Something regressively possessive stole over him, as if he’d claimed her. Officially. With a sweatshirt.

Still today, there was something about the sight of his petite wife swimming in his massive clothes that always turned him on. She probably only chose it tonight because it was easy, clean, and familiar. But for him, it held meaning and memory. She’d been wearing that very sweatshirt when she told him she was pregnant. He hadn’t been able to reach her for three days. She ignored all his calls and texts, and her coworkers at the coffee shop said she’d been calling in sick. When he finally went to her apartment and convinced her to at least open the door, he was prepared for anything. Or so he thought.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, hugging herself, hands hidden by the cuffs of his sweatshirt.

Gavin braced his hands on either side of the doorframe, his practiced speech replaced by panicked bumbling the instant he saw her face. “Just talk to me. OK? W-wh-whatever it is, just say it.”

She stared with empty eyes for a moment and then turned without a word. He watched from the doorway as she disappeared into her bathroom. Moments later, she returned, a white stick in her hands.

Every nerve in Gavin’s body erupted as if he’d been struck by lightning. “Wh-what is that?”

She stopped halfway across the small living room. Gavin walked in, shut the door, and crossed to where she stood. She held out the stick. He glanced down and saw a single blue plus sign.

“You’re pregnant?” he breathed, dots of light dancing before his eyes.

She snatched the stick back and resumed her cross-armed pose. “I’m pregnant,” she said, her voice firm, challenging, determined.

She’d barely finished the sentence before he kissed her.

“Are you ready to read?” Thea asked, interrupting the memory.

“Make room for Mommy,” Gavin said. Amelia scooted closer to his side, and Thea squeezed into a tiny bit of space between the girls and the wall. There was more than enough room next to him, but pointing that out probably wouldn’t go over well.

Gavin read as the girls snuggled against him, and every few lines he glanced at Thea. She obstinately refused to meet his gaze. When he finally finished a few minutes later, Thea sat up so fast that the bed shook. She told the girls to give her a kiss and that Daddy would tuck them in.

Ava was the hardest to get to sleep. She only wanted Thea and needed several stuffed animals piled around her to settle down. Amelia was easier. When he tucked her in and told her everything was going to be OK, she believed him. She looked at him with trusting, hopeful eyes, curled her tiny hand into his, and whispered, “I love you, Daddy,” before falling asleep. He could barely pry himself up to leave the room.

He closed their door with a quiet click, sucked in a steadying breath, and then walked back downstairs. He found Thea in the kitchen, writing something on her massive whiteboard.

She tensed when he came up behind her. “Are they asleep?”

He had to clear his throat to speak. “Yeah. They were tired.”

“So am I.”

He watched her re-cap her marker and replace it in the drawer. His eyes drifted to the corkboard and an embossed invitation stuck with a thumbtack. He had to blink twice to make sure he was reading it correctly.