Chapter 6 - Mom's HouseI folded the paper and stood up. In the nursery, Callum stirred slightly when I reached for the diaper bag. I froze until he settled. Then I called Mom.

"Can the boys and I stay with you for a few days?"

She went silent. "Did something happen?"

"Nothing new. That's the problem."

"Hope…"

"I can't keep risking my arm because Weston refuses to pick up his own children. I need my arm to heal properly, Mom. My boys need me."

Her voice softened. "Do you want me to come get you? My car is fixed."

"Yes. I'll pack."

"Are you leaving him?"

I glanced toward the living room, where Weston was watching television. "No. I'm trying to heal."

It was the first time I said it without apologizing.

An hour later, Mom handled the twins while I packed our things. Weston came outside as I zipped the diaper bag.

"Where are you going?"

"Mom's."

"With Callum and Rhett?"

"Yes."

His expression changed. "For how long?"

"I don't know."

"Hope, you can't just walk out."

"I asked you to help me stay."

He stared at me. I didn't wait for another argument. I got in the car.

At Mom's house, Callum fell asleep against her chest while Rhett kicked his legs beside me on the couch. My phone rang. Weston.

"Bring them home."

"No."

"I'm their father."

"Then start acting like one."

He went silent. Then his voice turned sharp. "Do you realize what this makes me look like?"

And suddenly everything became clear. He hadn't asked whether I was okay. He hadn't asked if my arm hurt more. He hadn't asked whether the twins were okay. His first concern was how he looked.

"Tell people the truth," I said.

"Are you serious? How dare you make me look like some kind of deadbeat father?"

"I didn't make you look like anything."

"What am I supposed to tell my mother?"

"The truth."

"And what exactly is that?"

"Tell her I broke my arm. Tell her I asked you to help me. Tell her you told me mothers don't get sick days."

Silence. Then: "You're humiliating me."

That was when I understood completely. "You weren't embarrassed when you said those things."

"What?"

"You weren't embarrassed when I was begging you for help. You're only embarrassed now because someone else might find out."

My hand was shaking when I ended the call. Mom noticed. She didn't ask what happened. She simply reached toward Rhett. "Give him to me."

"I can hold him."

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"I know."

There was something powerful in those two words. She wasn't saying I couldn't do it. She was reminding me that I didn't have to. So I let her help.