I waited.
“I’m sorry I lied,” he continued.
“I’m sorry I left you with everything.
I’m sorry I skipped work and dragged you into it without you even knowing.”
My throat tightened, but I didn’t rescue him from the discomfort.
He needed to sit inside what he had done.
“Why didn’t you just tell me you were exhausted?” I asked.
Daniel looked embarrassed.
“Because then I would have had to admit I wanted time away from all of you.”
“That would have hurt.”
“I know.”
“But it would have been true.”
He nodded.
“And we could have talked about it.”
“I know.”
“I might even have understood.”
That surprised him.
I leaned back.
“You think you’re the only person in this house who gets tired?”
“No.”
“You acted like it.”
He rubbed his palms together.
“What happens now?”
It was the question I had been asking myself since Brian’s first phone call.
At the beginning of the day, I might have answered dramatically.
I might have thrown his clothes onto the lawn or told him to leave.
But after hours of anger, one hotel charge, one call from his boss, and one painfully truthful conversation, I wanted something more useful than theater.
“Tonight, you sleep in the guest room.”
Daniel nodded.
“Monday, you go to your meeting and tell the truth.”
Another nod.
“You don’t blame me.
You don’t invent a sick child.
You don’t create another emergency.”
“I won’t.”
“And next weekend, I’m taking Saturday.”
He blinked.
“What?”
“All of it.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
He almost smiled, then seemed to think better of it.
I continued.
“You will get the kids up.
You will make breakfast.
You will find whatever shoe Lily loses.
You will deal with lunch, arguments, laundry, dinner and bedtime.
I’m leaving in the morning, and I’m coming back when I feel like it.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“That’s fair.”
“No lies required.”
That landed.
Monday morning arrived with none of the drama Saturday had carried.
Daniel dressed quietly.
He barely touched his coffee.
Before leaving, he paused by the kitchen door.
