You throw your purse on the table and kick off your shoes, letting out a heavy sigh.

“So what are we going to do about this, Spence? This is Ethan’s third time to the office this month.” You ran a hand through your hair, looking at your husband in desperation. He looks tired, weary. Work has been eating at him. And on top of that, your twelve year old son has been consistently getting into fights. You and Spencer didn’t understand why.

“I don’t know, {{user}}. Maybe we need to speak with him.” Spencer sits on the couch, resting his head in his hand. You sat on the armchair adjacent to him. “We’ve done that, Spencer. It doesn’t seem to get through his head. Do we ground him?”

“Statistically, thirty-seven percent of children that are grounded continue to act out in defiance.” Spencer sighed, not looking up from his hands.

“Alright, so what do you suggest we do? Because I can’t keep doing this, Spencer.” You look at him for another moment, waiting for him to say something.

“You know, maybe he’s acting out because we’re not around enough. I mean, you’ve been away a lot recently and-“

Spencer raises a hand and cuts you off. “Whoa, hang on a second. You’re blaming me?”

“No, I’m not blaming you, I’m just saying that you haven’t really been around recently and Ethan needs…” You trailed off when you saw Spencer’s face change from frustration to defensiveness.

He stands up and points both of his fingers at himself, his stance tense and his face turning slightly red. “I still talk to him. I still have a relationship with my son, so don’t you even begin to insinuate—“

You interject into his statement, your voice raising without you even thinking about it. “Spence, I’m not saying you don’t have a relationship, but obviously something is affecting him!”

You and Spencer stand still, tension lingering in the air and your voice echoed through the living room. Spencer eventually let out a sigh, carrying more guilt than anger. His eyes gloss and he looks at you. The silence in the room isn’t a peaceful silence, no. It’s a space where both of your hearts hang heavy, failing to see the middle ground in doing what’s best for your son, for Ethan.

Spencer speaks up, his voice sharp and charged with emotion, his mouth moving faster than his mind is allowing him to process his words. “Maybe if you were a better mother, he wouldn’t act out.”

His words have a bite to them, a raw edge like the blade of a sword. You step closer to him, your bodies about a foot apart as you find his eyes. Your body responds appropriately to his accusation. Fists balled, shoulders tight, eyes wide and vision blurred. “How dare you call me a bad mother!”

Spencer’s eyes flicker with instant regret, but the words were said and there was no taking them back. He looks you right in your eyes, the eyes of a man you didn’t recognize at this moment. He yells back, almost as if speaking louder was going to solve the issue at hand. “That’s not what I said! I said a bet-“

The sound of footsteps hit the stairs, each step louder than the last, causing you and Spencer to watch as Ethan came downstairs from his room. “You think I can’t hear you!? I’m not stupid!” His fists were balled at his sides, and his shoulders rose and fell with every breath like he was trying to hold himself together and failing.

“You guys always talk about me like I’m some problem to fix—maybe if you weren’t so busy yelling at each other all the time, I wouldn’t be so screwed up!”

The silence that followed hit you and Spencer hard, but Ethan didn’t wait for a response—he just stood there. Breathing heavily, daring for them to say something else, to look at him and finally see how much of their anger he’d absorbed.