Once my things were packed, I walked to Amelia’s room and packed most of her things into another bag. I left some of her outfits and toys because she had too many things to fit into one bag. I zipped the bag up and dragged all three through the apartment. When I reached the door, I shouldered all three and opened the door to step out into the hallway.

The weight of the bags seemed to drag me down as I carried them out to my car. I shoved them into the backseat and climbed into the front. The realization that I now had to face my parents and tell them what I’d just done settled in. I knew my dad would support me, no matter what, but I doubted if my mother would be as kind.

“You’ve already faced Joey,” I reminded myself. “Nothing could be worse than that.”

My father would never let my mother turn me away, especially since Amelia was with them. With that in mind, I started my car and backed out of my parking spot. I practiced my breathing again as I pulled onto the main road and headed for my parents’ house.

One battle down, one to go.

My parents lived only a few miles away from the shop my father owned.

Their house, a white ranch-style home, was about a mile off the main road. It was close enough to town that we could get supplies during the snowy winter months without issue, but it was far enough away that they had some privacy. My father had built the house right after I was born. It’d started out as nothing more than a three-room structure, barely big enough to fit us in, and it had grown over the years. My father had saved his money and added room by room until their house was complete. Every shutter, every door, every board had been built and installed by my father.

I pulled up their driveway and parked in front of the house. As I climbed out of my car, I debated on whether or not to bring my bags inside with me. Fearing my mother’s wrath, I decided to wait. If I walked inside with three bags slung over my shoulder, she would be sure to attack the moment she saw them.

Obviously, I had to tell them what had happened, but I wanted to do it my own way. Maybe if I could explain how miserable I had been with Joey, she would understand. I snorted. My mother and I rarely agreed on anything, even the small stuff. She would be sure to go nuclear over this.

Steeling myself for the inevitable fight, I started walking.

Round two, here I come.

I walked up the steps to my parents’ deck and headed for their front door. When I opened it, I heard Amelia’s baby giggles coming from the living room. I closed the door, kicked my shoes off, and turned to the right toward the living room.

When I walked into the room, I saw Amelia on her play mat, laughing, as my dad made funny faces at her from his chair. My mother was sitting on the couch with a laundry basket next to her. Their coffee table was covered with folded towels and other clothes she had sorted.

“I was starting to think you and Joey forgot you had Amelia,” my mother said as soon as she saw me.

I forced a smile but kept my mouth shut as I crossed the room and picked Amelia up. She grinned at me before reaching for my cheeks and squeezing them.

“Hi, baby,” I whispered. I kissed her forehead. “Mommy missed you.”

She gurgled in her baby voice for a minute before she started to struggle to free herself from my grasp. I placed her back on her mat, and she grabbed one of her toys. As she started to whack it on the floor, I sat down in the chair next to my father.

I met his gaze and tried to give him a reassuring smile. He frowned before glancing back and forth between my mother and me. He knew something was wrong, but he didn’t dare ask what in front of my mother.

I looked over at my mom, watching, as she continued to fold their laundry. She was an older version of myself. Her dark hair was the same shade as mine, but it was slowly starting to turn gray. Our eyes were the same, as were our noses. She was a bit overweight, just like me. Physically, it was clear where I’d inherited my genes. Personality-wise, we couldn’t have been more different. I had always been shy, timid even. My mother was not, at all. If she had something to say, she would say it even if she knew it would hurt someone’s feelings.

My mother and I’d butted heads more often than not when I lived with them. My teenage years had been especially tough. My shyness was something that bothered her, so she had tried to push me out of my comfort zone more than once. It had usually ended up with her shouting at me when I refused to budge.

“So, where were you two? All I received was a text from Joey, asking me if Amelia could stay here for a little while this morning. He wouldn’t say a word to either of us when he dropped her off,” my mother finally said, breaking the silence of the room.

Not quite ready to start the argument that was sure to follow, I didn’t answer her. Instead, I watched Amelia playing on the floor.

I heard my mother huff, but I ignored her.

“Caley, what’s wrong?” my dad asked.

I looked up at him, wishing it were just the two of us in this room. I’d always been closer with him. He never treated me the way my mom did.

“I left Joey,” I said. Though my voice was quiet, it was as if I’d shouted.

My father stayed completely still, but I heard my mother’s sharp intake of breath. For a moment, the room was completely silent, even Amelia was quiet before she started pushing buttons on one of her musical toys.

“You did what?” my mother demanded, her voice already rising.

“I left Joey,” I said again.

“Why would you do something like that?” she shouted.

“Caley, what happened?” my father asked, his voice controlled.

“I’m not happy with him. I haven’t been for a long time.” I kept my eyes on him, too afraid to look at my mother.

“You’re not happy?” my mother asked, her voice filling the room. “Who the hell cares if you’re not happy? Your happiness doesn’t matter. Amelia’s does. But I’m sure you didn’t even think about her when you decided to tear apart her family!”

“Of course I thought of her!” I turned to my mother, her words filling me with rage. “She’s all I’ve thought about since she was born. I didn’t make this decision on a whim. I’ve thought out the outcomes, and I feel she’ll be happier with us separated.”

“Versus what? Staying together and seeing both of her parents together?” my mother shot back.

“I’d rather she see us apart and happy than see us together and screaming at each other,” I said, my own voice rising.

“Enough, both of you!” my father cut in, silencing us. “Caley, come with me. Margaret, stay here.”

“Don’t tell me to stay here!” my mother said as she glowered at both of us.

“Stay here,” my father said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Come on, Caley.”

I hurried to my feet and followed him out of the living room. I could hear my mother muttering under her breath as we walked away.

My father led me back outside and across the yard to where the woods began. He stayed silent as we walked between the towering trees. Ten minutes later, we finally arrived at our destination—his hunting shelter. It was a simple platform set up in a large maple tree. Three sides were enclosed, leaving only the front open. We climbed the wooden ladder up to the platform. Once we were in, he sat down on the edge. Unsure of whether or not I should sit, I stood awkwardly behind him.

“Sit down, Caley.”

I sat.