Sophie’s too.
Bella recovering.
Pauline growing faster than any baby should be allowed to grow.
Nothing about it was the life I had planned.
But it was honest.
That mattered.
Some evenings, I rocked Pauline while Sophie studied nearby.
She had postponed college.
Not abandoned it.
Her inheritance case was still being resolved.
But she had started talking about school again.
Her future.
Her plans.
One night, she asked:
“Do you miss Willowcrest Lane?”
I thought about it.
The kitchen.
The bedroom.
The years.
Then Adrian.
“No.”
She smiled slightly.
“I thought you would.”
“I miss what I believed lived there.”
She understood.
THE HARDEST TRUTH
For years, I described Adrian as a provider.
He paid the mortgage.
Managed accounts.
Handled paperwork.
Made decisions. WritersResources
I mistook control for competence.
Fear for stability.
Silence for peace.
And the most painful part?
Sophie had been trying to tell me.
The bank statement.
