“You don’t have to explain anything today, my darling. Let’s just take this precious baby home.”
She hadn’t given me an answer.
Dad, Miles, stood by the window with his keys.
“Do you want me to call Ben?”
“No.”
“If he wants to speak to me, he knows my number.”
***
Before going to my parents’ house, I asked Dad to drive me home.
“I need clothes, Evie’s supplies, and my medication.”
“Do you want me to call Ben?”
Dad slowed as we turned onto my street.
Six black trash bags sat near the driveway, my new diaper bag on top.
“I’ll get everything,” he said.
“No. Come with me, but I’m going.”
Every step hurt as I walked to the bags. My clothes and postpartum supplies had been shoved inside.
I looked through the front window.
Six black trash bags sat near the driveway.
Part of Evie’s nursery was visible.
