Melissa was Peter’s mother, after all. She’d raised three kids. But the sounds of Emily’s cries kept ringing in my mind.

No, I told myself firmly. I did the right thing.

Still, as I rocked Emily to sleep that night, I couldn’t shake the dread creeping into my chest. What would Peter say when he found out?

Peter came home the next evening.

I was in the living room, bouncing Emily on my knee. My stomach clenched when I saw him, knowing we had to talk about what had happened.

“Hey, babe,” he said, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek. “How are my girls?”

I managed a weak smile. “We’re okay. Emily’s been a little fussy, but we’re fine.”

He took her from my arms.

“Hey, princess,” he said softly. “Daddy’s home.”

For a moment, I almost let it go. The smile on Peter’s face when Emily gripped his finger almost made me forget how angry I’d been just 24 hours ago.

Almost.

“Peter,” I began. “We need to talk about your mom.”

He looked up, his brow furrowing. “What about her?”

“She came over yesterday to help, but things didn’t go well.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. “She said she was going to watch Emily and make dinner so you could rest.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” I said. “But she unplugged the baby monitor, took my phone outside, and left Emily in her crib for over thirty minutes while she talked to you.”

“She told me she answered your phone because you were asleep and didn’t want to disturb you.”

“She didn’t just answer it, Peter. She took it outside and left our daughter completely unattended. I woke up to Emily crying while your mom was laughing on the phone.”

He sighed. “She didn’t mean any harm, Alicia. She was trying to help you get some rest. You’ve been saying for weeks how exhausted you are—”

“And you think this helped?” I interrupted. “She unplugged the monitor and took my phone. How do you think this helped?”

“But you didn’t have to kick her out!” he argued.

“How can you defend her, Peter? After knowing what she did?”

“She came to help us, Alicia,” he said. “She didn’t have to come over at all, but she did it because she cares about you and Emily. And now, thanks to you, she feels like she’s not welcome here anymore.”

“Are you serious? You’re more worried about her feelings than about what she did?”

“I’m just saying you could’ve handled it better,” he said. “She already feels stupid enough about the whole thing. Don’t be surprised if she never offers to help again.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words stuck in my throat.

What was the point? He wasn’t going to see it my way. He never did when it came to Melissa.

“Fine,” I said quietly, turning away from him.

Peter sighed again and sat down with Emily, gently rocking her in his arms. I watched him for a moment, feeling the distance between us grow.

That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn’t stop replaying our argument in my head. Maybe I could’ve handled things differently. Maybe I shouldn’t have told Melissa to leave.

But every time I pictured Melissa laughing on the phone after leaving my daughter inside, my resolve hardened.

I wasn’t sure if I’d done the right thing or burned a bridge I’d one day regret. All I knew was that my daughter deserved better.

Was I wrong?