Author's Notes: Please review!!!

I stir. That's all I've been doing every night for the last three months. Stirring. Stirring milk. Because my two year old daughter will not go to bed without having her warmed milk. So I continue to stir. Over and over again. The froth forms at the top and I turn off the heat, letting it cool before pouring in a little strawberry syrup and giving it to her. I hear pounding footsteps on the hardwood floor and I turn to see my four year old running in, the little devil behind him.

"Mia, slow down!"

I scoop down and pick up my little bundle of joy. She lets out a burst of giggles and digs her head into my shoulder. I prop her up higher so I have a better grasp on her butt, and my son looks up at me with pleading eyes. He always gets in trouble. Most of the time I know it's Mia's fault, but I have to teach Nathan a little responsibility once in a while, especially taking care of his little sister. I put Mia down and place a kiss on Nate's head. She goes running off again and he throws up his hands in defeat, and goes after her. I pull out Mia's up and pour the steaming liquid into it. I put it on the counter for a few minutes as I follow my son into the living room. I see him holding Mia on the sofa, her little head resting in his lap. Their both worn out. Mia looks so adorable when she's sleeping, that's probably the only time. She's such a disaster since she started walking. And developing a vocabulary. Damn was definitely not one of the first words I wanted to hear out of my daughter's mouth. I pick her up from the couch and walk her toward her room. I pull her shirt up over her hands and throw on her pajama top. I hand her her pants and she starts to kick off her pants. I walk out to the kitchen to get her milk. I take a sip, it's perfect. I walk back and she's already sitting up, under the covers. I hand her the cup, and she takes it quickly. I push her straight brown hair away from her face, and she gulps the milk quickly. I wipe the drips away from her face and she laughs as I do so. Apparently I tickle her. She hands me the leftover remains of the cup and I scoot her down into bed. I pull the sheets over her body and turn on the night light. I kiss her on the forehead and I walk toward the door, leaving it halfway closed.

I see Nate sitting on the chair, already in his pajamas. I wrap my arms around him and pull him up. I start walking with him toward his room as he struggles to get away from me. He's trying to be mad at me for carrying him, but he's laughing half the time through his screams. I plop him down on his bed and he collapses into a fit of giggles. I pull the covers over him and smother him in a mess of kisses, all against his will. I give him one last kiss before making my way to the door.

"Mommy?"

His voice rings out in the dark room, I can feel the question coming on, the question he asks every so often. He keeps that hope up, and I guess I sort of help him, although I shouldn't be.

"Yes?"

He takes a deep breathe, a little bit of anticipation lurking behind him. I know he thinks I know everything, that I can fix everything, that I'm a superhero and a mom rolled into one, but I'm not. I'm far from it.

"When's daddy coming home?"

I turn on the nightlight by the edge of his dresser, although he doesn't need it, I need it to be able to see that he's there when I get back in the early morning hours.

"I don't know baby."

I walk out the door, holding back any sign of regret or pain. I can't let them see that he hurt me so much. I believed every word he said, I believed that he would be a wonderful husband, a great father. And he was. For a time. Yet I can't let him go. Even after he left me without a word, even after he left me alone with two kids, one of which he's never met, I can't let him go. His wedding band still shines on my finger. His picture still stands on my dresser. I make my way back to the front, my babysitter should be here shortly. He stole everything from me. I have to work nights to be able to be with my kids. I can't walk in and check up on them in the middle of the night. I've lied awake wondering where he is, what I did to make him run away so fast. I keep wondering how Nate's going to let him go. Nate knew him. I believed every word the jackass told me. And then he left me.

I slam the picture of Carter down from the mantle. He ruined my life. He gave me the two most important things in my life, but he kills me. Nate looks so much like him, I seriously think I see a miniature version of him every time he smiles. I can't do this. My doorbell rings and Sarah walks in, ready to stay the night as I go off to the hectic life of the ER. The story of my life for over two years. My husband left me and our two children. I'm a single mother trying to raise two toddlers without going insane. And I'm also a doctor saving lives every single day. Wonderful.