“Cover yourself.”
Daniel dropped a towel beside my plate.
I looked up at my husband, certain for a second that I had misunderstood him.
Paige sat in the high chair beside me, happily crushing a strawberry between both hands. Her twin sister, Piper, was trying to steal my sunglasses while I attempted to keep them away from her tiny fingers.
Around us, families filled the shaded café at the water park. Children laughed. Parents carried dripping towels. Music played somewhere near the pools.
It should have been an ordinary family afternoon.
Instead, my husband’s two words made my entire body go still.
“Excuse me?”
Daniel pushed the towel closer to me.
“Put it around you.”
“Why?”
His eyes moved toward the table beside ours.
Jane was sitting there with Daniel’s younger brother, Elliot.
And suddenly, I understood.
I looked down at myself.
Then back at him.
“Are you embarrassed by me?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Mona, don’t make this worse.”
Something inside me shifted.
I’d spent ten months trying to make everything easier for him.
I’d tried to be patient.
I’d tried to be understanding.
I’d tried to laugh off the comments about my body after giving birth to our twins.
I’d told myself that he was stressed.
That he didn’t mean it.
That marriage involved overlooking little things.
That maybe I was simply more sensitive than usual because I was exhausted.
But that afternoon, I stopped making excuses for him.
I didn’t know it yet, but Daniel had chosen the worst possible place to say those words.
His family was listening.
And only a few minutes later, his father would ask to see a photograph that changed the entire afternoon.
Three days earlier, our kitchen looked like a banana had exploded.
Paige was smearing breakfast across her tray.
Piper had somehow removed one of her socks and was chewing on it.
Again.
“Please don’t eat your clothes,” I told her.
She grinned around the sock.
I laughed and grabbed my phone.
The girls were ten months old, and most days blurred together.
There were bottles, diapers, naps, laundry, toys, feeding schedules, and countless moments when I wasn’t sure whether I had showered that morning or merely thought about showering.
But every once in a while, there was a moment I wanted to keep.
So I lifted my phone and took a picture of the girls.
They were beautiful.
Messy.
Happy.
Completely themselves.
Then Daniel walked into the kitchen.
He was already dressed for work.
Clean shirt.
Neat hair.
Hot coffee in his hand.
I looked down at myself.
I was wearing an old T-shirt with baby cereal smeared across one shoulder.
“Can you take one of me with them?” I asked.
Daniel looked at the mess around us.
“Now?”
“Unless you know how to make babies stay this age until tomorrow.”
He sighed and took my phone.
I crouched between the girls.
Paige immediately grabbed my hair.
I laughed.
Daniel took the picture.
Then his expression changed.
“I’ll take another.”
“Why?”
“You won’t like that one.”
“Let me see.”
He hesitated.
“Daniel, give me the phone.”
He handed it over.
I looked at the screen.
My hair was messy.
I looked tired.
My face was a little fuller than it had been before pregnancy.
But Paige was laughing.
Piper was waving her sock.
And I was smiling.
“I like it.”
Daniel stared at me.
“Your face looks really puffy.”
My smile disappeared.
“Puffy?”
“And that shirt isn’t helping.”
I lowered the phone.
Daniel opened the refrigerator.
“When are you finally going back to the gym, Mona?”
I stared at his back.
“Maybe when I’m not running on broken sleep.”
“They’re ten months old now.”
“I know how old our daughters are.”
“You can’t use the pregnancy forever.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“I carried twins, had a difficult C-section, and I’ve spent ten months running on broken sleep. Why is the gym what you’re worried about? You’re acting like my body is on a deadline.”
He shut the refrigerator.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Daniel nodded toward my phone.
“Delete the picture. We’ll take a better one later.”
A minute earlier, I had seen my daughters.
Now I was staring at my cheeks.
