“Dad. He didn’t try to. It was an accident,” Reece pleads with me in his brother’s defense… all for me to calm down.

When Aidan came home with yet another cracked screen on his cell, I lost it. And the sad part is? It’s not even the broken screen that’s the problem. The fact that Heather still hasn’t checked in on the boys in the three months she’s been gone, that’s really got me pissed off. But the cracked screen just pushed me over the edge of my already angry attitude.

“I don’t care if it was an accident!” I roar, pacing through our living room like a caged lion. “I’m sick of you boys being so careless with your stuff! It’s not like money just grows on trees!”

“Oh, my gosh, Dad! I can’t believe you just said that,” Reece groans, moving from his position on the couch to stand in front of Aidan, like he’s protecting him from my wrath.

“What?”

He laughs, breaking up the constant tension in our home. “You sound like an old man.”

I chuckle, despite my pissed-off attitude that doesn’t seem to want to go away.

One would think I was a woman about to get her period.

I just can’t get over the fact that she’s just… vanished.

No phone calls.

No Happy Thanksgiving message.

No cards in the mail when they turned fourteen.

Nada.

Zip.

Nothing.

And I’m the one who gets to see the hurt lingering in their eyes every single morning after they try to go to sleep at night, wondering why their mother didn’t love them enough to get over her own shit, suck it up, and stay around.

Just like they go to bed every night wondering, I wake up every morning hoping — but at the same time not hoping — to see a message waiting from her for the boys.

I don’t want her back — I also don’t really even want her back in the boys’ lives if I’m being completely honest, but they deserve an explanation. None of what’s happening is their fault.

They didn’t ask to be born to a woman who didn’t want to be a mother.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I was pulling my stuff out of my locker, and it just fell. You know we’re not supposed to have our phones with us in class.”

“So why wasn’t it in the case?” I ask, trying to keep my temper at bay.

He shrugs and looks down at the ground, mumbling an apology and something about it needing cleaned.

I take a deep breath and blow it out then look to the ceiling, placing my hands on the back of my neck.

It’s December, and my mood is shit.

The weather is gloomy.

Work is slow, which allows my mind way too much time to wander.

I think about life with Heather and how shitty of a wife she was.

I think about how the first place I went after finding Heather with another man was Dreamin’ Beans and how I can’t seem to get Christine out of my thoughts either.

And what she confessed.

That she understood what I was going through.

Probably better than anyone else.

I think about how I just can’t seem to get out of this damn funk I’m in and how Christine told me to choose happiness but for the life of me, I just can’t seem to do it.

The other day the boys left their wet towels on the carpet in their room, and I completely lost it. Couldn’t even control myself.

One day they didn’t get the dishwasher unloaded before I got home from work and by my reaction, you would have thought they had been caught smuggling drugs at school.

It’s not just the things that the boys — typical teenagers — are doing or not doing, though. It’s when the guys at work look at me with pity in their eyes or someone on my team asks me a question about something they should have known easily; I don’t handle anything well. My entire demeanor is shit.

I feel like I’m a live wire. My entire world has just imploded, and I can’t think where to go next.

I never expected to be a single parent, raising the boys on my own.

And even worse, the resentment that’s building over knowing that I was stupid enough to stay with her long after I suspected something was happening is becoming dangerous.

“Dad.” Reece’s voice interrupts what was brewing up to be another anger-filled rant. “It’s a phone, Dad.” His small reminder of what’s truly important in life jars me back to reality.

And considering that we’ve had a hell of a go at life over the past few months, he makes an incredibly valid point.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” the boys ask in unison. They don’t even try to hide the shock on their faces or confusion on their voices.

“I’ve been a shitty father. I know. You boys? You’re everything to me. I’m sorry for letting my anger and frustration lately show and filter to you guys. You don’t deserve that, and I know it. I promise. Right now? It ends. I’m going to do what I have to do to get through it, okay?”

“You haven’t been a sh… bad father, Dad. Just…” Aidan looks to Reece who nods his head like he’s encouraging him to say what they’ve both been thinking for a long time now. “…your temper is getting bad. It’s hard to live with.”

I close my eyes briefly and drop my head before I look at their faces, both so broken and upset by walking on eggshells lately. “I know. It’s not right. I’m not pissed at you guys. I promise. You boys? You’re incredible, and I couldn’t ask for better kids.”

“Why are you so mad all the time, then?”

If that isn’t a kick to the nuts. I knew I hadn’t been hiding my irritation well, but to actually hear it come out of my son’s mouth? Well, that’s a big awakening. I take a deep breath and give them my real. Because they deserve it more than anyone.

“Because I hate this. I hate that you question why you’re stuck with just a dad. I hate that your mom hasn’t called you. I hate that you turned fourteen and she missed it. I hate that you wonder anything about how amazing and awesome you both are and how blessed I am to have you.”

They both blink at me, and I realize they need to hear it all. “Boys, I hate that I saw your mom was unhappy and I didn’t step in sooner and help her sort it out. I really hate that your mom couldn’t get over her own crap and realize that you’re worth it all. You two are so amazing. The best thing that ever happened to me. I wouldn’t trade a single moment of your lives for anything because you two are the only good I have.”

And that’s the moment where I see the boys break. Whatever they’ve been holding onto, crumbles before my eyes as both boys break down into tears. Crying, wondering why they’re not good enough. Voicing the worries and concerns I was afraid were plaguing them the entire time.

And the only thing I can do?

Is sit on the floor right along with them and hold them.

Letting their tears fall and their own anger win out.