"Besides, you just had babies. You can't possibly get divorced before you're even out of recovery. Those children need their father."
She trailed off, her voice tinged with worry.
"The grandparents are waiting for you two to bring the babies home. Their health is fragile. If this blows up any bigger... I'm afraid..."
I closed my eyes.
My grandparents had just had heart surgery not long ago. They couldn't handle any kind of shock.
Right now, the only thing those two old people were living for was to see me and my husband bring the Galloway babies home.
Just minutes ago, they'd texted me asking when I'd be discharged.
If things really escalated to divorce, word would reach them. There was no way it wouldn't.
My mother, always the sentimental one, pressed further.
"Jim has been so good to you. Can you really bring yourself to leave him?"
I thought about the porridge he'd make for me late at night. The breakfasts he'd prepare with little heart-shaped garnishes every morning.
Then the pregnancy—how he never missed a single checkup, how he'd stay up through the night sitting by my bed, massaging my swollen feet.
My heart couldn't harden all the way.
But that house—I couldn't give it up.