Page 29 of The Breaking Point

The kitchen is big. I had it expanded during the last renovation. I made sure there was room for everything we needed, space to cook on one side, and on the other, glass doors and a skylight that spill sunlight onto the long dining table. It’s where we eat dinner and I help the kids with homework. Not that they ask anymore.

Alex drops into one of the chairs. I sit beside him and ask gently, “What happened yesterday, sweetie?” Both he and Jack had been half-asleep in the car.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I don’t know exactly. Grandpa said he had indigestion, so he went for a walk. Just around the block.”

I nod, keeping my face calm as he continues.

“When he came back, he looked really sweaty. Weird sweaty, not from walking. I went to get him some water and when I came back… he was on the floor.”

His voice gets smaller. I hear the fear underneath it. He sounds like my little boy again. Not the one who shuts his bedroom door and blasts music. Not the one who rolls his eyes when I remind him to brush his teeth. Just my baby.

“I yelled for Jack,” he says, rubbing his nose. “Grandma wasn’t home and I didn’t know what to do.”

I reach out and run a hand through his hair, smoothing it back from his forehead. “You did the right thing. You did exactly what you were supposed to.”

His lip trembles, just for a second. Then he clears his throat and swallows it all down like boys are trained to do.

Aiden walks over with a plate and sets it in front of Alex. Three warm pancakes, butter melting in the middle, syrup already drizzled. A little crooked, a little uneven, but they smell amazing.

Alex doesn’t say anything. Just picks up his fork and starts eating like he’s starving.

Aiden sets another plate down in front of me without a word. I glance up at him and say more for Alex’s benefit than his, “Thank you.”

Alex, finally remembering his manners, mumbles with his mouth full, “These are great. Tasty.”

Jack walks in, “if they’re so tasty then why are you spitting them on the table. Idiot.”

Alex starts to shoot something back but Aiden says, “Boys.” And they both shut up.

Aiden brings over two more plates and sits beside Jack handing him his. “So, I was thinking, after breakfast we’ll head to the hospital. Check on grandpa maybe give grandma a break. What did your siblings say?” he says the last part to me.

“Why would they say anything to me? I’m sure Mom already talked to them.” I take another bite of pancake, and damn, they’re good. I chew slowly, holding back a moan.

Aiden looks frustrated. “You didn’t call them? Or even text?”

“Nope.” I pop thepjust to be annoying.

The boys, having cleaned their plates, excuse themselves to get dressed.

Aiden leans forward, his voice sharp. “Why are you being so nonchalant about this? Your father had a heart attack.”

And there it is, his tone again. Like I’m broken for not responding therightway.

I push my plate away, appetite gone. “What would you prefer? Crying? Throwing something? You think that would make himnothave a heart attack? What exactly do you want from me? First, I don’t react right to you cheating on me. Now I’m not responding properly to the man who abandoned me falling over from clogged arteries. Why don’t you just give me a list of good reactions, and I’ll try to hit all the checkboxes, okay?”

Aiden opens his mouth to fire back, but a small voice interrupts us.

“You cheated on Mom?”

We both turn. No. Alex stands there, halfway down the hallway, looking even younger than he did this morning. All the sleep is gone from his face now, replaced by something else. Something wounded.

“Sweetie…” I start.

“Alex…” Aiden breathes out.

But before either of us can reach him, he grabs his phone off the counter and bolts. His footsteps vanishing up the stairs. Aiden half-rises, torn. He looks toward the hallway like he might chase after him. But we both know it wouldn’t help.

He sinks back into his chair, the weight of it all pulling him down. “You did that on purpose.”

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