August 20

The first day of school was always rushed, nerve wracking, and crazy. That was true even when you didn't have a three year old and a nine month old. Sam had been working for several weeks, but only for football practices. This was his first full day. It was also Eli's first full day of preschool. There was a program at Quinn's school, so he wouldn't be too far. Emma would go to Sam's parents' house during the day.

"Finish your pancake, okay? Then let daddy wash your face and hands so you can get your backpack.." Quinn said, looking to Eli from where she was wiping banana from Emma's face. Sam looked up, seeing Eli with his mouth full. He was in a cute little Superman shirt, shorts, and converses. He looked really cute. He couldn't believe he was three and starting preschool.

Sam finished his breakfast and rinsed his orange juice glass before placing it in the dishwasher. Eli looked up and held up his plate. "I'm finished, too!" he said. Sam kissed his head and put his plate in the washer too.

"Alright, little guy. Let's wash your hands.." he said, leading him to the sink. He washed his syrupy hands and then wiped his face with a wet napkin. "There we go.." he said. Eli giggled.

Quinn was gathering all of Emma's stuff. "Okay, you take Emma. You're late already..and so am I...Eli, grab your backpack and your lunch box and meet me at the door, please," she said, handing Sam their little girl.

Sam took her and kissed her cheek. "You're coming with me Emmanem.." he said, grabbing her diaper bag and his keys. He headed to the door, finding Eli there with his little backpack and his lunchbox. In that moment, he looked grown up. But also so tiny. Sam couldn't help but grin down at him. He knelt down and kissed his head.

"Have a great day at preschool, okay?" he said. It seemed crazy that their little guy was big enough to go to preschool. Owen gave a quick nod and a grin. He was nervous; Sam could tell. "I'll see you this afternoon. I love you, little man," he said.

Owen grinned and looked up. "Love you, Daddy!" he chirped. At about that moment, Quinn came walking to the door. She was in her "we're late this is the first day go go go" mentality, so Sam just gave her a quick kiss.

"I'll see you this afternoon. Have a great day," he said. She just gave a small smile and nodded.

"You have a good day too. I'll see you this afternoon," she said.

August 24

Every morning during the first week of school went almost exactly like that. Wake up. Get dressed. Breakfast. Hurry hurry hurry. Quick kisses. Goodbye.

Sam had football practice on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Then games on Fridays usually. It was kind of a sucky schedule, but it was only during the fall. And the extra money was great. On the first Friday, Eli was worn out from his first week of school, so they opted for just Sam to coach and Quinn and the kids would stay home. That was fine with Sam.

It was late when he got home. He slid in the back door quietly, slipping his shoes off. He knew the babies were asleep. Quinn had been in the kitchen, and she peeked around the corner.

"Hey," she said, her voice quiet. "How was the game?" she questioned.

Sam gave a small grin and wrinkled his nose. "We won. How was your night?" he asked, noticing that she was sipping a glass of wine.

She shrugged slightly. "It's been okay. Emma was a little fussy, but I think it's a tooth. Eli passed out on the couch right after dinner. It's been a big week for him," she said. Sam nodded and went over to her, kissing her gently. He slid his arms around her and pressed his lips to her neck. That was usually one of their "signals." With the wine, he'd kind of wondered if she would want some special attention.

"Not tonight, Sam.." she said. "I'm exhausted," she added. He wasn't the type to get upset over that kind of thing, so he just nodded. "Okay...I love you.." he said, pecking her lips. She pecked back quickly. Sam didn't think much of it, really. It wasn't unusual for a kindergarten teacher who also happened to be the mother of an infant and a three year old to be tired.

September 25

The first month of school passed with no issues, really. The fall was always stressful, but that wasn't unusual. But it didn't take long for unusual things to start happening.

One Tuesday, Sam came home from a later football practice. When he got home, the kids were both in bed. He found Quinn in the kitchen, washing dishes. She didn't turn around when he came in, and he figured maybe she just didn't hear him over the running water.

"Hey," he said, putting his keys on the counter and going to grab some water from the fridge.

"Hey," she said, her tone slightly sharp. Sam furrowed his eyebrows slightly and went over to stand by her at the sink. She didn't look up at him.

"What's wrong?" he questioned, standing by her and going to put his hand on her back. He was surprised when she moved away, grabbing one of Emma's bottles from the kitchen counter.

"Nothing. Everything's fine," she said, shaking her head. Sam knew that wasn't true. She didn't act this way when "everything was fine."

"I know something's wrong.." he started.

"Oh? Do you? When did you gather that bit of information? Considering the fact that you're never here," she interrupted.

Sam was mostly just really confused. "I...don't know what you're talking about?" he said.

Quinn shook her head and dried her hands, tossing the towel on the counter and starting to walk away. "Forget it," she mumbled. Sam immediately followed.

"No. Not forget it. I don't know where this is coming from," he said, following her into the living room. She spun around on her heel to face him.

"It's coming from a wife who's exhausted from raising two children alone," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. In that moment, they weren't lit with love. They were...angry. He could feel her anger toward him. That was also confusing.

"I..you're not alone? I'm here..I.." he started. Again, she interrupted him.

"No. You're not. You're not here. Where were you tonight? Where will you be tomorrow? The night after that? And what about Friday? Where will you be Friday?" she questioned.

"That's..no. That's not fair, Quinn. We knew what this job was when I took it," he said.

"That was before we had two children, Samuel," Quinn said, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, I know. But now the job is even more important. Because we have two children. Who like to eat food. And I'd like to be able to feed them.." he said.

Quinn narrowed his eyes at him and just turned around, heading upstairs. Sam didn't see how he was wrong at all. He was also just so confused by this entire argument. This had never been a problem before. He didn't realize just how big their problems were.

For the rest of the week, they barely spoke. It was so weird, really. Sam would try to talk, but she'd say she was "fine" and just change the subject to Emma or Eli. That wasn't how they usually did things. They would fight it out, or talk through the night to settle something.

On Saturday night, Sam was sitting in their bed while Quinn finished getting her pajamas on and doing her night time routine. She glanced at him, knowing he was watching her sometimes. Sam just wanted things to be okay.

"Why didn't you tell me that football bothered you?" he questioned. He watched as her shoulders slumped.

"Football doesn't bother me...not having you around bothers me," she said quietly. She made her way to the bed and sat next to him.

"I know but...we knew that was part of the job…" he repeated. She just nodded and picked at a loose thread on their comforter.

"I know...I overreacted. I was just...having a bad day or something," she shrugged. Sam furrowed his eyebrows. It was all very odd. "Let's just….forget it happened, okay?" she asked. Sam shrugged. If that would make things better. He nodded.

Quinn got under the covers and Sam turned his bedside lamp off, scooting in next to her. "I love you, and I'm sorry for not being around," he said softly, putting a hand on her hip.

Quinn nodded a little. "It's okay.." she said softly. Sam kissed her shoulder gently, but when he got no reaction, he knew it must be too soon.

After a little while, Sam felt sleepy, and he knew their conversation must have been over, considering she was making no move to say anything. "Goodnight," he said quietly.

When she didn't answer, he assumed she was sleeping. He didn't know that she was awake, her back to him. He didn't know that the love of his wife was drifting from him. He didn't know that this argument wasn't like other arguments. He didn't know that it was a gateway to really deep problems. Apparently, Sam didn't know the half of it.