That night, after Emily went to bed, I told him I knew.
He didn’t deny it.
I handed him the duffel bag I’d already packed.
“You can explain it to your daughter tomorrow,” I said firmly. “But you won’t be staying here tonight.”
He left. I sat on the couch, not crying, just listening as the silence relearned my name.
A Daughter’s Understanding
The next morning, I sat Emily down. “We’re separating,” I said quietly.
She nodded, left the room, then came back and curled against me.
“I kind of knew,” she whispered. “The perfume. The weirdness.”
My heart cracked as she confessed her secret fear—that maybe his distance was her fault.
“No, sweetheart,” I said, holding her tight. “This has nothing to do with you.”
Building a New Life
Continue reading…
