“Well, you always look tired lately.”
The words hit me in the chest.
Tiara went still.
Hazel whispered, “He said it again.”
“You always look tired lately.”
Eric looked up. His eyes met mine, then darted to the girls.
All the color left his face.
“Tina.”
Tiara stepped forward, clutching the pasta box. “Wow. So that’s just your line, Dad?”
“Girls,” Eric said. “I didn’t know you were here.”
Clover glanced at me, then looked away fast.
“So that’s just your line, Dad?”
She knew who I was.
Eric forced a laugh. “Well, this is awkward.”
Clover wiped Toby’s cheek with her sleeve. “No. I think it’s perfect timing.”
Eric lowered his voice. “We’re not doing this here.”
“You did it here,” I said.
Clover’s eyes filled, but she kept bouncing Toby against her hip. “He told me you gave up.”
“We’re not doing this here.”
I looked at her tired face. “I was tired. There’s a difference.”
Eric scoffed. “Don’t rewrite history.”
Tiara’s jaw tightened. “You’re not a nice person, Dad.”
“Tiara, you’re too young to understand this.”
“I’m old enough to remember who packed my lunches,” she said. “Who came to my games, helped Hazel with homework, and sat in the driveway texting Clover.”
“You’re not a nice person, Dad.”
Clover flinched.
Eric’s face reddened. “Enough.”
“No,” Hazel said.
Her voice was small, but it stopped him.
Eric turned. “Hazel, sweetheart.”
“You told me Mom stopped trying,” she said. “But she didn’t. She was just tired, and you made her feel ugly for it.”
Tiara stepped closer to her sister. “And now you’re doing it to Clover.”
“You told me Mom stopped trying.”
Eric looked around the aisle. A woman near the avocados was watching. His voice dropped.
“You’re all making me look like a bad guy.”
“No,” I said. “You’re doing that by yourself.”
Clover shifted Toby higher on her hip. He’d stopped crying, but his little hand was still tangled in her shirt.
Eric pointed at the cart. “Clover, let’s go.”
“You’re all making me look like a bad guy.”
She looked at him for a long second.
“No.”
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I’m taking Toby home,” she said. “In our car.”
“Clover.”
“And then I’m taking him to my mother’s house.”
The aisle went quiet.
“I’m taking Toby home.”
Eric laughed once, but it cracked in the middle. “You’re not serious.”
“I am,” she said. “You wanted a fresh start, Eric. Maybe now you can find yourself in the real world. The one with crying toddlers, bills, laundry, and women who get tired because they’re human.”
He stared at her like he didn’t recognize her.
Maybe he finally didn’t.
Clover looked at me. “I’m sorry I believed him.”
“You wanted a fresh start, Eric.”
I nodded. “Just don’t keep believing him.”
Then I took my cart.
“Girls,” I said, “we’re going home.”
Eric snapped, “You can’t just walk away, Tina.”
I looked back once.
“I already did.”
“You can’t just walk away, Tina.”
That night, Hazel burned the garlic bread, Tiara used too much cheese, and I ate every bite.
Later, Hazel leaned against me at the sink. “Mom, you look happy.”
“I am.”
“Because Dad lost?”
I looked at my tired reflection in the window and smiled.
“Mom, you look happy.”
“No. Because I finally stopped losing myself.”
For years, Eric thought tired meant broken.
