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I log onto the Foxy’s page and populate my schedule for all of February. I always have my schedule up months in advance—I can’t believe I didn’t do this.

I shoot Foxy a text letting her know I’ve got February up, and she sends me back a thumbs up and a text with "glad you're alive ;)." Just to get it out of the way, I go back and populate March and April. There is no reason I can’t work every night, so I don’t block off any days.

I wrap my food up and shove it into the fridge, before heading out to finish my shift.

When I round the corner, I see Brandon standing at the nurses’ station, but his back is to me, so I whirl around on my heel and head in the other direction.

Guess I’m going the long way. I swipe my card to get through employee only doors and get odd looks from people who don’t know me.

I smile and wave, hurrying to get back to my section and work with my patients.

When I finally get there, my heart is racing because I’m hung over as fuck.

Then I realize there’s one problem: I don’t have my tablet, so I have no idea where I’m supposed to be.

My head falls back on my shoulders. Today is not my day. Definitely not a day I want to deal with Brandon. The universe really does like to fuck me over.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, groaning when I see my sister’s name.

“This is a joke,” I mutter as I stop to read the text.

The bathroom sink is leaking and Mom can’t afford a plumber. Can you come look at it?

I type out my response. Why can’t your husband do it? But I delete it because I have zero to no energy to fight with her today.

I’ll be by after work.

I shove my phone in my pocket, and when it buzzes again, I ignore it, sure it’s Molly bitching that I’m not there right this very second .

With my chin held high, I walk to the nurse’s station, where Brandon is still standing.

I go right around and grab a tablet and log in to see where I need to be.

I feel Brandon staring at me, but I won't give him the time of day. I brace myself for his words, likely something that’s going to send me over the edge.

He’s been here too much lately, and I’m one step from quitting just so I don’t have to see him anymore.

When I walk away without a word spoken, I thank my lucky stars.

Maybe the universe doesn't hate me, after all.

The moment I step inside my mother’s house, I know this is going to be a shit show. I can feel the anger lingering in the air as I walk through the living room, over to the kitchen, where I hear my mother and sister talking.

“Oh look. He actually came,” my sister mutters, her hand on her hip.

“I said I would,” I say back to Molly.

“Thank you for this, Tobias,” my mother says quietly, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

I nod and head down the hall toward the bathroom.

The cabinet beneath the sink is open, everything taken out of it.

The pipe isn’t currently leaking but the bottom is wet.

I use the flashlight on my phone to check what’s going on and spot the issue immediately.

The pipe was knocked out of the P-trap, likely from someone shoving things under here.

Considering this is where my mother keeps cleaning supplies, I imagine that’s the issue.

I pop it into place, then get up and head to the kitchen.

“All set,” I say.

“You did not fix it that fast,” Molly says with a scoff.

Why the hell does she have to be like this?

“It’s all set,” I repeat, blowing out a tired breath.

“You could have just said you didn’t want to fix it, Tobias. You didn’t have to come here and—”

“Can you just shut up for once?” I bark.

Her eyes go wide, and my mother shakes her head as she hurries to the fridge.

“I am so tired of your mouth. You know why I never come here, Molly? Because of you. Maybe I could have gotten over the shit with Ma, but goddamn, you are too fucking much.”

She gasps, her face turning red.

“How dare you!”

“No, how dare you?” I say, taking a step closer to her. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, about why I’m mad, yet you want to judge the hell out of me anyway.”

“You have no reason to be mad at Mom. Dad dying wasn’t her fault!”

“Honey, please stop,” Mom says, ringing her hands together.

“No. He needs to hear this.” Molly gets in my face, ignoring our mother who is reaching for her.

“You act like I don’t miss Dad. I do. But I don’t blame Mom for it because I accepted that it was an accident.

A car accident. They happen all the time.

Every damn day. And it sucks and it’s sad, but I’m not going to ruin the relationship with the only parent I have left over anger! ”

I hold her gaze, part of me wanting to spill everything right here, right now. But I don’t, because it’s not going to matter. It won’t make anything right. So instead, I turn to our mother.

“Are you ever going to tell her?” I ask, hating how my voice breaks.

“Oh, Tobias,” my mother says, her hand coming up to her mouth, eyes watering.

“Tell me what?” Molly says, turning her heated gaze towards our mother.

My mother’s eyes stay on me, and I plead for her to finally say something. Do something. Maybe if it comes from her, Molly will understand. Maybe if my mother tries to make it right by explaining, this will all be easier. But she says nothing. So I leave.