Page 9 of I’m Already Gone

A deep sigh escaped me. “Honey, there’s a lot that goes into owning a company. There are going to be late nights,” I explained, but even to my own ears, it felt like a crock of shit.

She turned off the water and placed the last dish on the drying rack with a soft clatter. She turned to face me, her expression solemn.

“Well, are we at least going to the beach house this year?” she asked.

Every year, Ethan and I would plan a family trip to the beach house before the kids went back to school in the fall.

“It’s been over a year, Mom. I miss going,” Maddy added.

I looked away, a flicker of shame warming my cheeks, and poured sugar into the mixing bowl. “I’m not sure, sweetheart. Your father and I haven’t had a chance to discuss it. But I’ll mention it.” I looked back up, catching her steady gaze, and after a moment, she gave me a small, almost sad smile.

Despite the uncertainty swirling around Ethan and me, at least my love for my children was something I could hold onto.

Ethan

Idragged myself into the house, locking the door behind me.

The living room light was on, a soft glow spilling into the hall. That meant Lily was still awake. I felt like a douche bag that she waited up for me, knowing full well I’d be home late. Again.

“I’m home,” I called out, dropping my heavy briefcase with a thud and kicking off my shoes.

“In here,” Lily’s voice drifted from the living room.

I shuffled into the room. She was curled on the couch, swallowed by her lilac fleece blanket, an open book held in her hands.

“Kids asleep?” I asked, leaning against the archway, too tired to move further.

“Yes.” She closed the book, not quite meeting my eyes. “Another late night.” It wasn’t a question but a heavy statement, laden with an accusation.

I let out a long, slow sigh. “Yeah. Sorry I missed dinner.”

I felt like a broken record on repeat. I was so tired of saying it, night after night.

“You’re always sorry,” she muttered.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Lily.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I just got home.”

“Right.” Lily pushed herself up from the couch.

She folded her blanket, setting it aside before placing her book on top, bookmark peeking out.

“Your daughter asked if we’re taking a family trip this year. I was hoping we could talk about that tonight,” Lily said, her voice still quiet, but with an underlying tension.

She stood a few feet in front of me, her arms crossed.

“I’m not sure, Lily. It’s been a busy several months.” The words felt hollow even to me.

“It’s funny how easy it is for you to plan work trips and never miss any of them. But when it comes to your family, it’s so easy to dismiss us.”

“Lily,” I started, but she simply raised a hand.

“Good night, Ethan.”

She turned, walking away without another word.

Ethan

Lily was busy at the stove, her back to me, frying bacon and scrambling eggs. Jake and Maddy were hunched over the table, starting through their breakfast.