‘Where have you been, I was worried sick?’ I find myself speaking with concern and smoothing Tom’s ruffled hair instead of shouting at him. His face is white, his breathing shallow. I look into his eyes, heavy with worry. And still he says nothing.

‘What’s wrong, Tom, what happened?’

He pushes past me, lifting Cian in his arms before kneeling on the ground in front of Aaron.

‘I’m sorry, boys,’ he says. ‘Daddy had to help a friend. Look at all these lovely toys.’

‘We got lots and lots and lots.’ Cian runs from Tom’s grip to gather as many presents in his hands as possible. Aaron stands watching Cian, then runs at him pushing Cian to the ground and grabbing a train from his hand. ‘Mine, mine, mine.’

‘There’s enough here for everyone, Aaron,’ I say. ‘You have to learn to share.’ Lifting Cian in my arms, I hug him tightly, kissing his forehead and sniffing his hair.

‘Say sorry to your brother, Aaron,’ I say.

Aaron turns his back on us and pushes the train along the ground. He’s a couple of inches shorter than Cian, the first to be dragged out of my womb. He’s also a lot thinner than his brother, which considering how much he eats surprises me. Aaron can finish a whole plate of dinner while Cian is still dipping his first chip into the ketchup.

‘Aaron, Aaron,’ I say, but he doesn’t answer.

‘Leave it out.’ Tom shuffles over beside Aaron. Cian wiggles from my grip to join them. They have forgiven Tom already. Somehow, I have become the bad person in the room.

Standing by the doorway, arms crossed, I watch Tom playing with the boys and wonder about the man. What is going on? Is he planning on explaining where he was or does he think I’m going to accept the silly explanation he gave the kids? If he is, he can think again.

‘Tom, can I see you outside, please?’

He acts like he doesn’t hear me, like a teenager being asked to do a chore.

‘Tom.’

‘What?’ he grunts, turning abruptly to look at me. There’s something different in his eyes. Is he trying to hide something?

‘Tom, I want to talk to you.’

‘I’m playing with the boys, Sally. Can’t it wait until they go to bed?’

‘I guess it can… Right, boys… time for bed.’

With Cian and Aaron fast asleep, Tom then decides to take a shower. Anything to delay his big confession. I’m sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, drinking a glass of leftover wine from the party when he walks in.

‘What a day,’ he says attempting to lighten the seriousness of his absence. I don’t engage. ‘How did the party go?’

Lifting a glass to my mouth, I stare at him without answering.