I exhaled. Counted to three. “Yes. She’s a pretty girl.”

“Is there something going on between you two?”

“Jesus, Mom!”

“I’m only asking because I think you need to be very careful. The girls have been through so much and it could be confusing and hurtful for them to see you with another woman so soon.”

“I know.”

“I’m not saying you have to be alone for the rest of your life, but they’re just so young, and they’ve still got to be traumatized about their mom running off with another man. Deep down they’re probably afraid of losing you that way too. You want them to feel one hundred and ten percent certain they are the most important people in your life.”

“They do,” I snapped. “I don’t need to be told this.”

“And maybe it would be best not to take up with their beloved nanny,” she went on. “I mean, what happens if you two have a fight and she quits? Then the girls lose her too.”

“And it would be my fault. I get it.”

“I’m not blaming you for anything, darling. I know how hard this has been for you, and I feel awful we’re not there more often to help you out. But the extreme cold is bad for Daddy’s blood pressure.”

“We’re fine, Mom. I’m managing.”

“Of course you are. You’re a wonderful father, and I know you love those girls to pieces. But I also know you must be lonely too, and with a pretty young girl around so much, I can see how tempting it would be to … take advantage of the situation.”

“I’m not taking advantage of anything!” I yelled.

“Okay, okay. I didn’t mean to upset you, I just want to make certain the kids are protected.”

I closed my eyes, my jaw clenched hard. I knew she meant well, but I was about to lose my shit. Did she think I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation? Did she think I took this lightly? “The kids are my number one priority, Mom. They always have been. And they’ll stay that way no matter what.”

“Good. Well, I’ll see you Thursday then, dear.”

“Have a safe trip.” I hung up and stood there fuming for a moment, wishing I had a heavy punching bag in the house so I could hit something as hard as I wanted to. I wished I had a motorcycle I could take off on for days. I wished I could down half a bottle of whiskey and drown out my feelings.

But I couldn’t do any of those things, because the kids were upstairs waiting for me to put them to bed, and that’s the guy I had to be.

Every. Single. Night.

Later I was lying in bed, my mother’s words weighing heavily on me, when my phone buzzed again. It was fucking Carla. I should have ignored it, but I sort of felt like punishing myself.

“Hello?”

“Who’s Frannie?”

“What?”

“Frannie. Millie texted me all weekend about Frannie this and Frannie that. Who is she?” From the way Carla was slurring her words, I knew she’d been drinking.

“Frannie Sawyer. From Cloverleigh. She babysits for them.”

“Is she my replacement?”

“I’m hanging up, Carla. You’re drunk.”

“Are you fucking her?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“The hell it isn’t. I’m their mother. How dare you bring some little slut into the house? How old is she, twenty-two?”

“Twenty-seven,” I said before I could help it.

She squawked with laughter. “Well, I get why you’re chasing her around, but what the hell does she want with you? Does she think you have money or something?”

My jaw clenched. “She knows who I am.”

“Oh, so she’s a mind reader? Because you never told me who you were. And why does Millie think she’s so great?”

“Because she’s here,” I said angrily. “And she cares about them. She gives them love and attention, which is more than they get from you.”

“I’m their mother. They’re supposed to love me no matter what.”

“You left.”

“Because you forced me to!” she shouted. “If you would have been a better husband, I wouldn’t have felt so alone! It’s your fault I had to leave.”

“Carla.”

“Just admit it—you didn’t want to marry me in the first place.”

“You’re right. I didn’t want to get married that soon. We’d only known each other for a few months. We were young. I was about to deploy for Iraq. But I did what I thought was right.”

“I never wanted to be your charity case!” she cried.

“It wasn’t like that, and you know it. I tried hard to be a good husband and father.”

“You didn’t try hard enough.”

“You wanted too much from me, Carla. No matter what I did, it was never enough.”

“I only wanted you to pay attention to me. I wanted you to love me.”

“I did, Carla.” I lowered my voice. “But you were always sulking and pouting. Punishing me for things I had no control over.”

“Like leaving us all the time?”

“I had no choice about my deployments, Carla. You know that.”

“And when you got back, you were always so happy to see the kids but not me.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Well, that’s what it felt like. You were cold and distant.”

“I needed time to readjust. Life at home was a shock to me. You never understood that. You never let me talk about it.”

“Because I wanted you to just forget it and be the husband I’d dreamed about. The husband I deserved. I’d waited and waited and waited for you, and then you came home and disappointed me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said grimly, feeling that sense of failure all over again.

“That’s why I had to spend all that money on things,” she went on. “That’s why I drank. I was trying to fill the void you left in my life.”

I took a steadying breath. “I hope you’re happier now.”

“I am!” she snapped. “And since you’re all doing so well without me, maybe I’ll never come back.”

“You do what you want, Carla. You always have.”

She hung up on me, and I tossed my phone aside. Great. Now she’d have even more reason to blame me for ruining the kids’ lives. And she’d aim at them to get back at me. She knew that was the only way to actually hurt me. Tomorrow she’d probably tell Millie that I’d forbidden her mother from coming to visit, that I didn’t want them to see her ever again, and maybe even that I was screwing the nanny. I flung my arms over my eyes.

Somehow I’d fucked that up without even trying.

What else was new?

I didn’t talk to Frannie again until Monday night. She called at about quarter to ten, as I was catching up on some work emails at the dining room table. It had been hard not to call or text her for two days, but every time I thought about doing it, I remembered what my mother had said and felt guilty.

“Hello?”

“Hey, guess what?