Diana's POV:
"Will dad come?" Emily asked.
"Will he come? We want him to come." Michael said, his eyes full of hope and expectant. "It's going to be huge. And so maybe people will be coming and I could make him a picture and all of that, and Emily will sing for him. "
What they're describing all sounds so interesting, I'm not gonna lie. But....
The sound of the whistling kettle pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. I rushed over to it and turned the gas off. What did I even want the water for again?
"Mommy?" Michael called.
I sighed, my head hanging forward. This must be really bothering them if they're calling me mommy. That only happens when they're really upset.
I crouched down at their eye level looking at the both of the closely. "Your dad is..." What do I say? Without a do
