“If I have to become your manager, we failed.”
“I know.”
“And if you ever tell me motherhood means doing this alone again, I’m not debating it next time.”
He looked at the notebook.
“I know.”
We returned home the following weekend.
I did not throw away Dana’s number.
I did not destroy the temporary agreement.
And I did not stop keeping occasional notes just because things improved.
Trust did not return because Brandon finally understood how to sterilize bottles.
It returned slowly when he noticed what needed doing before I assigned it.
Sometimes he still missed things.
Sometimes I still became angry faster than I wanted.
Six months of resentment does not disappear after one competent Saturday morning.
But something fundamental changed.
One night, both girls began crying within seconds of each other.
My whole body tensed automatically.
Before I stood up, Brandon closed his laptop.
“I’ve got Lily,” he said.
