*Shelby*

The clink of cereal bowls and the soft patter of small feet were a gentle symphony the next morning, a stark contrast to the loud current of thoughts racing through my mind. I was robotically going through the motions of breakfast with the twins, rethinking the evening with Michael. I hated going to bed with animosity between us, but I hated that he didn't seem to believe me even more. His side of the bed had been empty that morning, the sheets untouched since he'd ...