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“Speaking of settling in, did you move your mother in here without consulting me?"

She sighed, glancing down the hall toward Rory's room. "Is that what she told you?"

"Yeah, she did. The question is why would she have to tell me? Why wouldn't you? Why would you move her in here in the first place? Is that how little faith you have in me? In us?"

"Hold on," she said, holding both hands up. "Calm down. I didn't move my mother in. She's staying here with me while we deal with our stuff, but she’s not moving her things in or anything like that."

"But why? Why would you do that? You know how she feels about me—"

She looked at me as though I were crazy. "Wes, you’re her son-in-law, the father of her grandchild. She loves you."

I scoffed. "Yeah, okay, like she loves people who say ‘Happy holidays’ instead of Merry Christmas."

She pursed her lips. "She does love you, Wes. And, the truth is, I could use the help. I don’t understand why you insist on vilifying her. You don’t want us to move in with her, which I understand, but she can still help me in other ways, and she wants to do that. More than that, I need her to. She's not judging. She's not trying to manipulate me one way or another. Believe it or not, she doesn’t want us to get divorced. She just wants what’s best for us all, and she's trying to do what she can to help. Since Dad died and she sold the house, she’s all cooped up in that condo with nothing to do; this is as good for me as it is for her."

"And what happens when I come back? Hm? If I come back. Is she going to leave then? Because I’m not going to be the one to have that awkward conversation.” I huffed, then grew quiet as the realization swept over me. “Unless she doesn’t expect that to be an issue. Does she think I'm not coming back?" She hesitated, and my stomach lurched. “Do you think I'm not coming back?"

"I don't know what to think, Wes. We're still trying to figure everything out. That's the point of all of this, isn't it? To get some clarity."

"I don't know, Addy. Why don't you tell me what the point of it is, since you're the one orchestrating everything. Pulling us all around like puppets on strings and pretending you're the victim in the entire situation."

Her jaw dropped. I'd crossed a line. I watched her steely eyes narrow at me. "I'm not the victim here, Wes, and I'm not pretending to be. If anyone is a victim, it's Rory, whose entire world has been torn apart and who has no idea what her future looks like. She doesn't need us in the dining room fighting right now. We need to be united."

"That's all I want," I said angrily. "I don't want her hurt. I don't want her future uncertain. If it were up to me, I'd be right back here and things would be back to normal."

"But I don't want normal. Don't you get that? Normal wasn't good anymore. Normal wasn't working for anyone."

“Normal wasn’t working for you, Addy. Speak for yourself here.”

“Fine,” she agreed. “Normal wasn’t working for me, then. Normal doesn’t work for me anymore.”

"So, what? That's just it? Decision made? Were you even going to tell me you'd moved her in here?"

She pressed her tongue onto her top teeth, pausing briefly before answering. "I didn't want it to be a whole thing. She knows it isn't permanent."

"Is it not?" It was the first she'd said to lead me to believe she might think I could move back in.

"It…" She stopped, chewing her lip before her hands raised into an exaggerated shrug. "None of this is permanent, is it? If you move back in, she'll move out. If you don't, we all move out. We can’t keep this house for much longer if we aren’t together."

I felt the words take the breath from my lungs.

"Is that what you want? Be honest, Addy. Do you want this to be the end of…of everything? Of us? Do you want me to move on? Is that what this is? Are you trying to let me down easy? Because if that's what this is, I'd rather you just tell me now."

"That's not what this is. I love you, Wes. When I make a decision, decide what I want, I will tell you. I won’t string you along either way. I see that you’re attempting to be better, okay? I do. I'm just trying to work through my feelings about everything."

I reached for her hands, and to my surprise, she let me take them, holding them in the space between us. "Well, I want you to do that. I do. I want you to take whatever time you need. But I also need you to communicate with me. Not every day, fine. But we're still married. I need to know what's happening with our daughter. Our house. You have to keep me in the loop."

She nodded, staring at me. "I know. I'm sorry." Her gaze fell to the floor momentarily and then came back to me. I could still get lost in her eyes, even in the middle of a fight. "I should've told you about Mom, but it's really not a big deal. I don’t want you to make it into something it’s not. I was struggling to get everything done, and she offered to help. Simple as that."

"Why wouldn't you let me help?"

A skeptical brow raised. "Since when do you have the time?"

"Since now," I told her. "Seriously. What do you need?"

"House stuff, mostly. I’m trying and failing to keep up with it all. I needed help with laundry, dishes. Rory had soccer, and I had work, and the house was falling apart, so Mom stepped up."

"You should've given me a chance."

I watched a muscle in her jaw twitch as she fought

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