"Brad—"
"Finn was at daycare. Four years old. I had to pick him up, pretend everything was normal until I could figure out how to explain that Mommy wasn't coming home."
My chest ached for him, for both of them.
"The worst part," he continued, staring at his closed laptop, "was that our last conversation was an argument. About Finn's preschool, whether we should consider one with better medical support. She wanted him to stay where he was happy. I wanted him somewhere with a full-time nurse." He laughed bitterly. "I was so focused on protecting him from everything except losing his mother."
"You couldn't have known—"
"I know that. Logically. But logic doesn't help at 3 AM when Finn has a nightmare about Mommy not coming back."
The weight of his grief filled the room. I wanted to comfort him but wasn't sure how, wasn't sure what rights I had to offer solace.
"Tell me about Marcus," he said suddenly, deflecting from his own pain.
I tucked my feet under me, considering how honest to be. "We met at a conference. He was presenting on innovative business strategies in education. I was young, impressed by his confidence, his vision. He seemed to know exactly where his life was going."
"And he wanted you to fit into that vision."
"Eventually, yeah. At first, he was charming. Supportive, even. But gradually, he started suggesting improvements. My clothes were too casual, my career wasn't ambitious enough, my friends were holding me back."
Brad's expression darkened. "Controlling."
"I didn't see it that way for a long time. He framed everything as trying to help me reach my potential. It wasn't until he suggested I quit teaching entirely—said my salary was too low, that I should pursue something with a bigger paycheck."
"What happened then?"
"A parent came to thank me. Their son had selective mutism, hadn't spoken in school for two years. But in my class, with the right support and patience, he'd started participating. The parent was crying, saying I'd changed their whole family's life." I smiled at the memory. "I went home and told Marcus, expecting him to be happy for me. Instead, he said it was nice that I’d helped one kid, but imagine what I could do with my potential—how much more I could earn.”
"That's when you left?"
"That weekend. I packed while he was boasting about how I couldn't survive without him and would come back to him within a week. I left the ring on the counter and never looked back."
"Good for you."
"Maria helped. She never liked him, spent two years biting her tongue. The moment I called her crying, she had a moving van at the apartment within an hour."
"She sounds like a good friend."
"The best. Like Theo is for you."
Brad groaned. "Theo's a menace. Did you know he's already planning what he calls 'Operation Get Brad Back in the Game'?"
"The game being hockey?"
"The game being dating."
"Ah." I kept my tone carefully neutral. "Any prospects?"
"According to Theo? Every single woman in Colorado."
"That's a lot of dates."
"I'm not dating anyone." The statement came out firm, almost harsh. Then softer: "I can't. Finn needs stability, routine. I can't bring random people into his life."
"That makes sense."
"Does it? Or am I using him as an excuse to avoid dealing with my own issues?"
