Aubree still looks shell-shocked, glancing back and forth between all of us—Liam glaring at me, Wendy glaring at Liam, Noah looking very lost, and me trying to process a way out of my mistakes.
"Oh my God...you're... andshe's... oh my God..." Aubree mutters, looking at me and Wendy, the pieces all coming together for her. "I'm just gonna—"
Aubree practically runs out of the room, skirting around Wendy with a wide berth.
When the door closes behind her, Wendy gestures for Noah to sit at the desk. I stand up and motion him over, and with a moment's hesitation and a reassuring glance from his mother, he walks over to me and sits in my chair.
"Headphones on, baby," Wendy says, and Noah smiles at that, nodding as he slides his headphones over his ears and puts on music.
When she sees that he's thoroughly distracted, she turns back to Liam. He crosses his arms, taking on a defensive stance as Wendy tiredly tosses her purse on the chair in the corner.
"Mama—"
"Liam, I am not done talking," she hisses as she holds up a hand. He snaps his mouth closed and I blink in surprise.
I've seen Wendy discipline our kids, adopting a more talk-it-through approach. This is different. I've never seen Wendy actually angry like this.
"I know you feel like you have to protect your little brother and me—"
"Mama, he's with another woman—"
"—hisemployee,Liam. I trust your father—"
"Has he even given you a reason for that?" Liam’s dark eyes flashing to mine. "BecauseIdon't trust him."
"I know!" Wendy snaps, Liam jumping back at the volume in her voice. "I know you don't trust him. I know he hasn't given you a reason to trust him, but that is your father's employee; this is his job. Your grandfather’s business. You cannot just react with anger first and lash out because you're hurting. I'm trying to be understanding, but you're toeing a very thin line, Liam Emmett."
Liam's face flushes, and he looks chagrined at that, glancing down at the floor.
"Look at me."
His eyes snap back up to Wendy, and her face softens. "What does Dr. Stone say? About our anger?"
Liam's shoulders deflate and his eyes meet mine for half a second before darting away.
"That... when I react before thinking, I let the anger control me, instead of me controlling it," Liam mutters. "I could end up hurting someone who doesn't deserve it."
"Does she deserve your anger? Has she done anything wrong?"
"No."
"Has your father done anything wrong?" At Liam's look, she adds, "Context, Liam."
He huffs, petulantly. "No."
"Then there are better ways to express our feelings," Wendy says, stepping closer to him and laying her hands on hisshoulders.
At her touch, his shoulders drop even more, and the angry look melts away.
I stare in awe as my wife talks through this with our son, just another example of how disconnected I feel from them. I might as well be watching from another country.
"I know it's hard to let him earn that trust because you're hurt. I know you're scared of it happening again—"
"—I'm not scared," Liam says, petulantly, but Wendy just gives him a dry look.
"You said you would try. For you. I'm starting to trust your father again. I believe in him. I want that for you, and he's the one who has to earn that trust, but Liam—he wants to try if you want to give him that chance."
"Liam," I say gently, both my wife and son looking at me now.
