arranged neatly across the kitchen table.
“What’s going on here?”
I pulled out the chair opposite me.
“Have a seat, Callum.”
He lowered his bag beside the sofa and sat down.
His eyes immediately landed on the schedule.
Monday through Wednesday.
But the heading didn’t say Husband.
It said Kieran.
Underneath were the ordinary tasks our son depended on.
School pickup.
Dinner preparation.
Bath time.
Bedtime.
Morning routines.
Callum picked up the paper and frowned.
“Hold on. This isn’t what we discussed.”
“We didn’t discuss anything. You informed me of
