Even while I changed diapers.
“You should see Alice’s dance class videos,” Carl said one morning. “She dances beautifully, has an athletic body, and wears short skirts! And you?”
“That’s great for her,” I replied quietly while wiping applesauce from Bradley’s chin.
“You used to have that kind of energy.”
My hand stopped.
Bradley stared at me with wide eyes, applesauce still sitting on one eyebrow.
“Carl, I had a baby recently.”
“I’m just saying. Alice still finds time for her dance classes.”
“Alice is 28 and doesn’t have a newborn strapped to her chest.”
Carl only shrugged, as though I’d just proven his point.
That evening, I made one more attempt at having a real conversation.
“I need help around the house,” I said. “You’re home all day. I’m not asking for miracles. I’m asking for dishes.”
“I’m dealing with a lot right now.”
“So am I.”
“It’s different, Nina.”
“How?”
Carl never answered.
Instead, he reached for his phone, and once again I noticed him tilting the screen away before tapping it.
I convinced myself I was imagining things.
The little details kept piling up until they were impossible to ignore.
Before Steve and Alice came over, Carl actually showered.
Not just a quick rinse—a full routine, complete with the cologne he usually saved for anniversaries.
“Big plans?” I teased as he fussed with his collar.
“Just want to look decent.”
“You looked decent yesterday in gym shorts you haven’t washed in a week.”
“Very funny.”
During lunch, Carl insisted on driving Alice home because “Steve had that thing to get to.”
I didn’t remember Steve mentioning any plans.
Judging by the confused expression on my brother-in-law’s face, neither did he.
Across the table, Alice caught my eye and held my gaze just a little too long.
Later that afternoon, she texted me.
Not about Carl.
Just:
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