WEEK 78: I suggest you sit

“Were you ever planning to tell me about him?”

I don’t answer.

He stands. Wobbles.

“Sit,” I say.

Pushing me aside, he mutters, “I’m not a dog.”

“It was a suggestion.”

He takes a step and wobbles some more. “I need a shower.”

“I suggest you sit.”

“I need a damn shower,” he snaps, shooting me a heated glare. “Unless you plan on keeping that from me too?”

Wow. “You’re not being fair.”

“Fair?”

Gasping, I suddenly find myself pinned to the wall.

Kind of.

Twitch collapses against me with a groan, “You’re such a fucking hypocrite.”

I don’t know whether I should be concerned or afraid. I don’t know whether I’m supposed to fight him off or hold him up. I don’t know what to do.

He releases me before I can decide.

It takes us both a moment to realize why.

My brave little man has just rammed into his father’s leg. “Stop it!” he yells, attacking with all his might. “Stop it! Stop it!”

“Noah…” I begin.

Twitch shakes his head. The smile on his lips is obviously fake. The pain in his eyes is very real. He’s devastated. Completely gutted. Kneeling as miniature fists continue to fly, he raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, buddy. I’m stopping.”

“Don’t hurt my mom!”

When a lucky punch clips him in the jaw, he calmly ruffles Noah’s hair. “I would never hurt your mom.”