Biscuit, was barking at absolutely nothing.
Daniel listened to all of it.
Then he said,
“I’m tired.”
“Tired of what?”
“This.”
He gestured toward the noise.
“The diapers. The crying. The bills. Someone needing something every minute. I can’t breathe anymore.”
I stared at him.
“We planned these children.”
“I know.”
“We wanted them.”
“I know.”
Then he looked directly at me.
“I want to live for myself now.”
A pause.
“Claire doesn’t have children. Everything with her is easier.”
Easy.
That word hurt more than I expected.
For eighteen
