That was when I first searched for family lawyers in Briar Glen.
I didn’t call.
I closed the browser.
Then reopened it a week later.
I wrote down a name.
Rachel Monroe.
I still didn’t call.
Some part of me was waiting for one undeniable moment.
Apparently, Carter decided to provide it.
That Saturday night, his friends came over for football.
I didn’t want company.
One of the triplets was teething.
I had slept maybe four hours.
My physical therapist had increased my exercises, and my lower back ached.
When Carter told me the guys were coming, I said:
“Can you order pizza?”
He looked disappointed.
“I told them you were making chili.”
“You told them?”
“You make good chili.”
“I’m tired.”
“It’s just one pot.”
That sentence almost made me scream.
Instead, I cooked.
Two pounds of beef.
Beans.
Tomatoes.
Cornbread.
Toppings.
I served everyone.
Then went upstairs to put three babies to sleep while Carter watched the game.
At some point, Nolan spilled beer on his jeans.
Carter went to the laundry room looking for paper towels.
That was where he found the package.
And instead of closing the cabinet, he carried it into the living room.
Adrian crossed the room before I fully understood what he was doing.
He reached for the package.
Carter pulled it away.
Adrian grabbed it again.
This time harder.
Carter let go from surprise and stumbled half a step backward.
His smile vanished.
“Hey, man.”
“What’s your problem?”
Adrian looked at the package.
Then at Carter.
“You think this is funny?”
The room went silent.
Carter gave a nervous laugh.
“I’m joking.”
“No.”
“You’re humiliating your wife.”
“Jesus, Adrian.”
“Elena knows I’m messing around.”
Adrian looked at me.
Then back at Carter.
“My sister spent six weeks in intensive care after delivering twins.”
Nobody moved.
I had met Adrian’s sister once.
I knew she had children.
I didn’t know the rest.
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“She almost died.”
“She needed surgeries.”
“She had complications afterward that took years to improve.”
“And her husband used to make jokes about her body too.”
Carter looked irritated.
“What does that have to do with us?”
“Everything.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“My sister told me later that the medical complications weren’t the part she remembered most.”
“It was feeling ashamed inside her own house.”
Carter’s face reddened.
“Dude.”
“Stop.”
Adrian raised the package.
“Elena carried three of your children at once.”
“Three.”
“She went through a high-risk pregnancy.”
“She had surgery.”
“She’s still recovering.”
“And you’re standing here waving something private around because you think getting five guys to laugh at your wife makes you impressive?”
Carter looked toward the others.
“Guys?”
Nobody helped him.
Adrian continued.
“You aren’t funny.”
“You’re a coward.”
I heard my own breath catch.
Carter’s entire face changed.
He looked at me.
Then back at Adrian.
“This is my house.”
Adrian nodded.
“That makes it worse.”
“You’re taking this way too far.”
“No.”
From the couch, Nolan slowly set his bottle on the coaster.
Then stood.
“Adrian’s right.”
Carter stared at him.
“You too?”
Nolan picked up his jacket.
“That was messed up.”
“It was a joke!”
“Then explain the funny part.”
Carter opened his mouth.
Nolan waited.
Nothing.
He looked at me.
“Thanks for dinner, Elena.”
“I’m sorry.”
Then he walked toward the door.
The other men began moving too.
One after another.
Jackets.
Keys.
Embarrassed glances.
One guy murmured:
“Sorry, Elena.”
Another couldn’t meet my eyes.
Within a minute, the living room emptied.
Adrian was last.
He walked toward me and handed me the package.
