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“Alice lives with me,” she said. “We agreed on that.”

“At the beginning,” Noah said. “When I moved out and I was getting set up again. You were right, Alice needs stability. But I’ve got that stability now. Things have changed, and I think it’s only fair that our arrangement changes.”

Hope shook her head. “And what about later?” she asked.

“Later?”

“What about when you and Amelia have kids of your own? What then? You’re going to keep seeing Alice every other week? You’re going to treat her the same as your other kids? The ones that live with you full time?”

“I could ask the same of you,” said Noah. The tip of his nose was white. “And of course I’d treat Alice the same. How could you ask that of me?”

“Because you’re the one that left, Noah. You’re the one that walked out, not me.”

“So this is my punishment, is it?” Noah asked. “Not getting to see my daughter? That’s the price I have to pay for being honest and speaking the truth that we both knew?”

Hope firmed her jaw and said nothing because there was nothing to say.

“Tell me you weren’t feeling the same way, Hope. Tell me you weren’t just going through the motions, waking up every morning and pretending everything was alright, when deep inside you knew that we weren’t a good fit.”

“I…” Hope started, but she couldn’t finish it. She remembered sitting at the kitchen table in her old house, Alice opposite her, chatting as they ate. She remembered the faintly irritated feeling she had when she heard the front door open, when Noah interrupted their private time together.

But then, wasn’t that what life was? What marriage was? A constant cycle of getting annoyed and then remembering why you loved someone?

Except maybe in the end there hadn’t been much love. Maybe that love had turned into something else, into tolerance perhaps. And the sadness of that took her breath away.

“I was brave enough to say it, Hope. I took the blame. I knew that you never could, so I did it, I let myself be painted as the bad guy, the one leaving. I don’t deserve to be punished for that.”

“I’m not punishing you,” Hope said.

“You are,” said Noah. He pressed his lips together in a gesture so familiar that Hope could have drawn it. “You want to know about this doctor’s appointment we’ve got?”

“Not really,” said Hope. “That’s your business.”

“It’s a fertility doctor,” Noah went on, ignoring her answer. “Not that it’s going to make much difference. It’s a technicality really.”

“Fertility?”

Noah nodded. “Amelia can’t have children. She was told that a while ago. But we thought we’d check.”

Hope looked over to where Amelia was bending down, helping Alice tie her shoelace. “She can’t have children so she wants mine?” was the first thing she said.

Then she hated herself for it. Hated that she was so petty, so selfish, but she hadn’t been able to help herself anyway.

Noah shook his head. “That’s not what this is about,” he started.

But then Alice was running towards them both, shouting ‘mum’ and ‘dad’ in a way that always made Hope’s heart swell. This perfect little creation with her muddy knees and her tangled hair, it was unthinkable to her that she and Noah had made this.

“Mum,” Alice said, breathless as she caught up with them. “Mum, ‘Melia showed me a new way to tie my shoes. Shall I show you?”

“Show me when we get home,” Hope said, because Amelia was walking toward them now and she didn’t want to face her. Didn’t want to face the woman that she’d just been so horrific to even though Amelia hadn’t been around to hear it. She was embarrassed and felt a little sick at what had been a knee-jerk reaction.

“Bye, Al,” Noah said, leaning down and kissing his daughter.

But Hope already had Alice by the hand. She flashed a brief, shameful wave at Amelia and then practically dragged Alice back off toward the car.

“Mum, why didn’t you say goodbye to ‘Melia,” Alice said as they hurried toward the car park.

“I waved,” Hope said defensively.