Ethan
Idragged myself into the house, locking the door behind me.
The living room light was on, a soft glow spilling into the hall. That meant Lily was still awake. I felt like a douche bag that she waited up for me, knowing full well I’d be home late. Again.
“I’m home,” I called out, dropping my heavy briefcase with a thud and kicking off my shoes.
“In here,” Lily’s voice drifted from the living room.
I shuffled into the room. She was curled on the couch, swallowed by her lilac fleece blanket, an open book held in her hands.
“Kids asleep?” I asked, leaning against the archway, too tired to move further.
“Yes.” She closed the book, not quite meeting my eyes. “Another late night.” It wasn’t a question but a heavy statement, laden with an accusation.
I let out a long, slow sigh. “Yeah. Sorry I missed dinner.”
I felt like a broken record on repeat. I was so tired of saying it, night after night.
“You’re always sorry,” she muttered.
“I don’t want to fight with you, Lily.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I just got home.”
“Right.” Lily pushed herself up from the couch.
She folded her blanket, setting it aside before placing her book on top, bookmark peeking out.
“Your daughter asked if we’re taking a family trip this year. I was hoping we could talk about that tonight,” Lily said, her voice still quiet, but with an underlying tension.
She stood a few feet in front of me, her arms crossed.
“I’m not sure, Lily. It’s been a busy several months.” The words felt hollow even to me.
“It’s funny how easy it is for you to plan work trips and never miss any of them. But when it comes to your family, it’s so easy to dismiss us.”
“Lily,” I started, but she simply raised a hand.
“Good night, Ethan.”
She turned, walking away without another word.