By the time Daniel came back, I had learned how to smile even when I was running on almost no sleep. I had learned how to answer doctors, sort bills, remember appointments, and sit beside three tiny bassinets while pretending I was not terrified.
What I had not learned was how to look at my husband standing in front of me with another woman at his side and act as if any of it was normal.
He had been gone for four months. He had missed the birth of our daughters. He had missed the first fragile weeks when every small improvement felt like a victory. And now he was looking at me as if his return was just the final step in a plan he had already approved.
The woman beside him barely looked at the babies before checking the time.