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“I can,” Aubrey says. “I’m your mother.”
“You don’t have to move,” I tell him. “Aubrey, can you please stop? None of this is what we talked about, and I already told you, you can go. I’ll give you the divorce, but you’re not taking the kids. God, why couldn’t you have waited until we had a discussion on how to tell them because this is not it.”
“Because I want out!” she yells.
“Then leave.” I point to the door. “No one is keeping you here. I can take care of them. I do it every morning while you stand around acting like someone has hurtyouwhen all you’re doing is hurting our family. If you want to go, then go.”
“I’ll go with you, Mommy,” Amelie says, almost pleading with her mother.
“Go to your rooms. Both of you,” I tell them.
Mack starts toward his room, but Amelie just stares at me. I’m on the verge of losing it. All of it, and I know it won’t be pretty. Aubrey sits there, with her arm wrapped around our daughter, as if they’re protecting each other. I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath.
“Amelie, I’m not going to tell you again.”
“You didn’t ask her,” Aubrey says.
“I’m not asking her, Aubrey. I’m her father and I told her to go to her bedroom.” I start to stand, ready and willing to go to battle with either of them, when Mack comes back into the room.
“Come on, Amelie. Let’s go watch a movie.” We make eye contact, and that’s when I see he’s fighting back tears.
Fuck this.
As soon as I hear his door shut, I move next to Aubrey and keep my voice as low as possible. “What in the hell was that? Seriously, Aubrey. You’re a nurse. You know better than to put children in the middle of this type of shit.”
“You’re scaring me,” she says.
I nod and move a seat away from her. “Is this better, or would you like me to go into my office and call you to discuss the bomb you just dropped on our kids?”
“It was time.”
“Don’t you think we should’ve discussed how we were going to approach this, and when? Do you think it’s fair to ruin their Christmas? They’re children, Aubrey. Still forming their frontal lobes, and this is a memory you want to tie into on their favorite holiday? They’re never going to forget this. Ever. It’s going to be ingrained.”
“Fine. All right. But it’s done, and they know they’re moving.”
I scrub my hand over my face and groan. “They’re not moving. You’re not taking them.”
“I am.”
“Then I’ll file kidnapping charges. Is that what you want? Do you want the feds to stop you at the airport and make a scene? Why are you doing this?”
“Because they’re my babies.”
“They are, and they’re mine, too. And you’re not thinking about what’s best for them right now. You’re thinking about you and how you’re going to hurt me.”
“You’ve hurt me.”
“How? Tell me how and I’ll get down on my knees and beg for your forgiveness. Tell me how I’ve hurt you, Aubrey.”
“The affair,” she says quietly.
This time, I roll my eyes. “I’m not having an affair.” I pull my phone out of my pocket, unlock the screen, which is her birthday, and hand it to her. “Go through it.”
“I’m sure you deleted everything.”
“Right.”
I leave my phone there and go to the refrigerator to get a beer. Across the room of our open concept house, our Christmas tree sits in the front window. Two weeks ago, the kids and I decorated it while Aubrey stayed in the bedroom with a headache. Maybe that should’ve been my wake-up call.
