But tomorrow had become years.
“No,” I said. “You were going to leave me with nothing.”
He lowered his gaze.
Then he walked down the porch steps.
Vanessa followed him, carrying a single suitcase and looking back only once.
The town car remained at the curb. The security officers watched Daniel load his things into a rideshare that had pulled up silently behind it.
When the car drove away, Noah ran to the window.
“Is he gone?”
I stood behind him and rested my hands on his shoulders. “Yes.”
Lily crossed her arms. “For good?”
I looked at Mr. Meyers.
He answered gently. “For tonight.”
Tonight.
Such a small word. Such a large mercy.
The house exhaled around us.
I expected relief to come rushing in.
Instead, I felt grief.
It filled the hallway, sat on the stairs, hovered over the suitcases Daniel had packed with my clothes. Grief for the marriage I had thought I had. Grief for the father my children deserved. Grief for the younger woman at the kitchen table signing papers beside a man she trusted.
