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I waved that whole notion aside with an angry flick of my hand. “Whatever. They’re fine.” The tiniest flicker of a wince crossed his face, and I rephrased what I was saying. “They’re great. I don’t mind taking care of them, when I know the real reason why.” I glared at him as I emphasized the second half of the sentence. This time, he winced visibly. “You’ve known for a week!” I cried, throwing my hands in the air. “A week! You know I can’t stand being left out of the loop, that it triggers all my biggest fears, but you decided to… what? Protect me from the ‘truth’?” I made air quotes around the word truth, and his face collapsed.

My heart clenched as his expression twisted up into a pained grimace, and—as he looked away, bracing for more berating—the fight leached out of me. I sat back heavily in my chair and dropped my hands between my knees.

“What are we doing, Art? What is this?” I asked softly.

Surprised, he looked back at me. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want it to be like this between us. I thought we were going to be partners.”

“We are!” he cried, jumping to his feet again.

I shook my head. “No. Partners share burdens and help each other carry them. You shut me out.”

“To protect you,” he protested with a confused frown.

“That’s not your job.”

“Of course that’s my job.” He looked even more confused than he had a moment earlier.

“Your job… Our job is to support each other and have each other’s back.” I sighed. “I know that protecting me is more than just something you want to do to be nice. At least, I suspect that it’s something you feel you have to do like it’s your job.” He tipped his head to the side in agreement. “But I will not go back to being a line item on someone’s chore list. That’s not acceptable to me. If this is going to work, we have to be partners in every way that matters. That means you can’t keep me in the dark or hide things to protect me.”

Something about the word dark tickled my brain uncomfortably, making my stomach clench with something that felt a little like guilt and a lot like dread, but when I tried to put my finger on why, the thought floated away, leaving me with an itch between my shoulder blades like something I’d said didn’t fit quite right.

Art reached for my hand and, after a nanosecond of hesitation, I held it out for him to take. We sat in silence, hand in hand, for a long moment as Art sorted out his thoughts.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have told you. I don’t even know why I didn’t. It was silly. I was freaking out all week, and I could have used a partner’s support.” He sighed. “It’s hard for you to open up because of what happened when you shared too much. I think it’s hard for me because I never had anyone to share things with. The few times I tried, the people I hoped would show up for me let me down, so I learned to deal with things on my own.”

I squeezed his hand. “You’re not alone anymore,” I whispered.

“Neither are you.” His grateful smile was tinged with sadness.

I really hoped that would go on being true.

His phone pinged, startling both of us.

“Sorry. Could be the kids,” he said, pulling his phone out.

Glancing at the screen, he swore under his breath. “Seriously?”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, alarmed at his sudden mood shift.

“It’s noth—” he started, then stopped, glancing at my face. Letting out a deep sigh, he grinned sheepishly at me. “Sorry. Force of habit. Viv hasn’t been turning in her work. The school is threatening to cancel her study abroad program.”

“She what?” I cried. “If she’s not doing her work, what is she doing on her computer all day?”

Art shrugged. “Beats me. But you better believe I’m going to find out.”

His phone pinged again, and he glanced quickly at the screen. This time, he cursed out loud.

“What is it this time?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“The storm is getting worse. They’re closing the bridge for everyone’s safety in an hour.” He shot me a wild-eyed, helpless look that took me a moment to interpret.

“Your meeting.”

“My meeting. If the bridge is closed in the morning, I won’t be able to get to Edinburgh.”

The familiar sensation of the walls closing in on me took my breath away. It was all just too much. The kids. The job. The uncertainty. I was right back where I’d started, with life rushing at me from all sides.