Priya's office was on the second floor of a brick building beside a pharmacy.
I arrived with two folders and a stroller.
Mom had offered to keep the girls, but I wanted them close.
I was still learning how to leave them for an hour without wondering whether something terrible might happen.
Priya greeted us in the waiting room.
She made space for the stroller beside her desk.
Then she offered me water and let me finish settling Mia before we began.
“Tell me what you want to accomplish,” she said.
“I want him to understand what he's done.”
She waited.
I looked down.
“And I want the girls safe. I want to know whether we can pay our bills.”
“Those last two are things we can plan for,” she said. “The first may take longer.”
I showed her the statements, Ryan's messages, and our current budget.
She did not react dramatically when I described the terminal.
She asked practical questions.
Had Ryan ever threatened me?
Had he cared for the girls alone?
Did we have a written childcare arrangement?
Were there major debts?
Did we own the house together?
Was I worried he would remove the children without consent?
I answered each question as carefully as I could.
I was afraid of his anger.
But I had no reason to believe he intended to harm the babies.
I refused to claim otherwise just to strengthen my position.
Priya nodded.
“That distinction matters.”
She explained that infidelity did not automatically determine parenting rights.
Our state would consider the children's needs and the parents' ability to meet them.
Because Ryan had spent months at sea, he would need practical experience before long periods alone with two infants.
That could be planned without turning every visit into a battle.
She suggested a written temporary schedule.
Short daytime visits at first.
More hands-on care as Ryan learned their routines.
A plan for phone calls and travel notice.
A clear system for sharing medical information.
I listened, surprised by how relieved I felt.
I did not want a judge to erase their father.
I wanted a father who showed up.
Priya turned to the finances.
“Don't change joint accounts without understanding the consequences,” she warned.
I had already opened an account for future paychecks.
She said that was generally sensible, but distribution of marital funds would need careful treatment under the applicable law.
She asked whether I was ready to file for separation or divorce.
“Not today,” I said.
“Then we can begin by documenting the current situation and discussing temporary support.”
I took notes until my wrist ached.
Near the end, Ava woke and began to fuss.
I lifted her from the stroller.
Priya watched me straighten the blanket around her feet.
“Do you have help?” she asked.
“My mother.”
“Anyone else?”
“A friend from work. My neighbor sometimes brings dinner.”
“Good. Make use of them.”
I left with a checklist.
It was not a solution to my marriage.
But it was the first time since the harbor that my future had looked like something I could organize.
Ryan was waiting outside our house when I got home.
His suitcase stood beside the porch steps.
Mom stopped the car.
“Do you want me to talk to him?”
“No. I'll do it.”
I climbed out while Mom remained with the babies.
Ryan looked tired.
“Why won't you answer me?”
“I have answered you.”
“Not the way a wife should.”
I looked at his suitcase.
“Why are you here?”
“This is my house too.”
“Yes.”
He seemed surprised I agreed.
“I want to come home.”
“You need to give me a little time.”
“Time to do what? File papers?”
“I met with an attorney.”
His mouth opened.
Then closed.
“You've already gone that far?”
“I'm trying to understand our choices.”
He looked past me toward the car.
“Can I see my children?”
“Yes. We can sit in the living room.”
He followed me inside.
Mom brought the girls in.
For half an hour, Ryan held them while I showed him how we prepared bottles and checked their medication chart.
He took photographs.
Mia tugged at his shirt.
Ava fell asleep in the bend of his elbow.
I saw genuine tenderness.
I also saw that he had forgotten to support Mia's head until Mom gently reminded him.
He was not a monster.
He was an inexperienced father who had made selfish choices.
Both facts were true.
After the visit, he carried his suitcase toward the hall.
I stopped him.
“Ryan, we haven't agreed you're staying tonight.”
His face hardened.
“Are you throwing me out?”
“I'm asking that you stay somewhere else while we work out an arrangement. I know we both have rights to the home. I'm not changing the locks.”
He set the suitcase down.
“Then I'll sleep in the guest room.”
I looked at Mom.
We had not anticipated this.
I decided not to turn the doorway into a confrontation.
“Then we need some rules,” I said.
He folded his arms.
“No arguments in front of the girls. No surprise visitors. We discuss money tomorrow. And you don't take them out without letting me know.”
He watched me.
“Is that what your lawyer told you?”
“It's what I'm asking.”
He said he would stay only one night.
I knew then that the difficult decisions had barely begun.
At the end of our first legal consultation, Priya handed me a blank calendar.
“Start with the girls,” she said.
I wrote down every regular appointment.
There were more than I expected.
The pediatrician.
A weight check for Ava.
The vaccination clinic.
My follow-up appointment after childbirth.
The dates had always lived in my head.
Seeing them on paper made the work visible.
Priya asked who had attended those visits.
“Mostly me. Sometimes Mom.”
“Has Ryan had the opportunity to attend?”
“He was at sea.”
She nodded.
“Then it's important to make room for his involvement now, where appropriate.”
I was annoyed for a moment.
He had missed so much.
Why should I have to teach him what I had learned without help?
Then I looked toward the stroller.
The girls would benefit if he learned.
That was enough of a reason.
On the way home, I stopped at the pharmacy for more formula.
I compared two brands against the pediatrician's recommendation.
A woman beside me was choosing diapers for her newborn.
She asked whether the larger package was a better value.
I explained how to compare the price per diaper.
She thanked me.
We spoke for a few minutes about night waking and laundry.
She never asked whether I was married.
I liked that.
At home I placed the calendar on the refrigerator.
I added Ryan's visits in a different color so nobody confused them with medical appointments.
Mom examined it.
“Very organized.”
“I need to be.”
“Don't make it another way of punishing yourself if something changes.”
She was right.
The following day Mia had a fussy afternoon and none of my plans worked.
I missed a call from the insurance office.
Dinner was toast.
Ryan came by to drop off diapers and noticed how tired I looked.
“Can I hold them while you eat?”
I hesitated.
Then I handed him Mia and heated soup.
He rocked her while I ate.
For twenty minutes we were cooperative.
That was useful.
It was also enough.
I did not invite him to stay the night.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: What Happened in Our Kitchen When Ryan Finally Opened the Statements
The Morning I Brought Our Daughters to the Harbor and Saw Their Father Kiss Someone Else
Part 5 of 16
