“That woman is going to be my wife,” I say, turning around, and she takes a step back. “She just doesn’t know it yet. But I’m going to make her my wife, and if you push her away, that means you’ll be pushing me away.”

“But …” she starts to say. “But you have Ethan and Savannah.” And Gabriel, I think to myself. I rub my chest where my tattoo hides. A tattoo I got when my father passed away of a cross for him and under it, I put Ethan’s birthday. I am going to have to add another birthday to that. I ignore the pain in my chest as I think of my child and the pain that she went through. Alone. Without me. Doubting that what we had was real.

“I have Ethan, and Kallie knows this. It isn’t a surprise to anyone,” I say and walk back into the living room. “And as for Savannah, the only relationship I want with her is to co-parent with her, exactly as I have been.” I walk back into the kitchen and open the fridge to start breakfast.

“But …” I lose it and slap my hand on the counter. I look to see if Ethan is in the room.

“Mom, enough,” I hiss. “But nothing. Kallie is the one. She’s always been the one. She will always be the one.”

“I can’t forgive her for leaving you,” she says and looks down. “I won’t.”

“Then that’s too bad,” I say, “because I’m hoping like fuck Charlotte can forgive me for fathering a child that wasn’t her daughter’s.” She gasps. “Now, are you staying for breakfast or not?”

“I think I am going to leave you and Ethan,” my mother says. “I think you have a lot to talk about. But,” she says softly, “just remember that he has a mother and doesn’t need a stand-in.” She turns on her heels and walks out, and I make a mental note that we are definitely going to have more words.

“Where is Grandma?” Ethan comes into the room with his basket of dirty clothes.

“She had to take off,” I say and start to make breakfast while he carries his clothes to the laundry room.

“Can I watch television?” He looks at me, and I nod while I make him pancakes, bacon, and eggs. He turns off the television and comes to the island when I call him to come eat. He gets on the stool and looks over at me. “Did you and Grandma have a fight?”

“Why do you say that?” Wondering if he heard what we were arguing about, I look over at him.

“I heard her yell, and then she left.” He chews a piece of pancake. “Who was that girl?”

“Grandma and I were just talking,” I say, “and that girl was Kallie.”