Someday.
It had been reckless.Naïve.I had believed—if only for a moment—that love might be enough to fracture the walls Creed Kirkland had spent a lifetime reinforcing.But he had never let anyone in all the way, and I had convinced myself I could be the exception.
I was wrong.
So, I did the only thing I could to protect what mattered most.
I shut him out.Not because I wanted to.Because I had to.
Because my girls deserved better.
Because I deserved better.
I didn’t fully believe that yet—but I would.
* * *
IBURIED MYSELF INwork.
During the day, I led IWM the way it demanded to be led—decisive, focused, and unflinching.Meetings ran on time.Deadlines were met.The magazine moved forward without hesitation and without the shadow of Creed Kirkland hovering over every decision.There was no space for indulgence, no room for emotional fallout.
In the evenings, my time belonged to my girls.
Morgan and Michelle became my anchor, their laughter and endless curiosity pulling me firmly into the present.We baked cookies that ended up dusting every surface with flour.We built blanket forts that collapsed into tangled limbs and breathless giggles.We created a life that had nothing to do with Creed Kirkland—a life that was learning how to be whole again.
And still, they asked about him.At first, it was every day.
“Is Mister coming back soon?”
“Does he have to work forever?”
“Can he take us ice skating again?”
I answered gently, choosing my words with care.I told them he was away on business.That sometimes adults got busy.And that absence didn’t always mean someone didn’t care.
Eventually, the questions stopped.
They stopped waiting for him.
I told myself I had, too—but the truth was harder to swallow.
Creed Kirkland was still in control.
He had left on his terms, and his silence wasn’t surrender.It was a statement.A pause.A test—one I refused to take.
So, I stopped searching for him.I stopped imagining that I would turn a corner and find him standing there, watching me the way he used to.I stopped leaving space in my life for someone who had chosen absence over presence.
Creed was gone.
And it was time for me to move forward.
Whether he ever caught up—or not.
