My friend’s mom dropped me off after school, and I half-skipped up the walkway, my backpack bouncing against my shoulder.
I knew Philip hadn't left. His car was parked right out front, in the same place he’d left it yesterday afternoon.
“Philip! You can’t do this! Philip, I love you!”
I stopped at the door. Mom’s voice sounded strange.
She always said his name like she was smiling. But not this time.
This time it sounded like she was crying, and it made my stomach twist.
When I walked into the living room, Philip was standing there with two suitcases on the floor. Mom had her arms around him, holding him so tight, like she was scared he might disappear if she let go.
But he wasn’t hugging her back.
He just stood there, motionless, like one of the statues at the park.
His face looked weird. Not happy. Not mad. Just… gone.
“Graceline, you need to let me go,” he said.
His voice didn’t sound like his voice.
Why was he calling her Graceline?
He never called her that. He always said Grace.
“No! No, you’re making a mistake!” Mom was crying now. “She’ll never love you like I do! She’ll never be woman enough for you!”
Philip didn’t even look at her. He stared at the big clock on the wall, like he wanted time to move faster.
Mom grabbed his face with both hands and made him look at her.
“I can give you all the children you want,” she said, her voice shaking. “I’m still young. I can give you a son. A beautiful boy, just like you.”
Her hands were trembling, but she kept smiling through the tears.
Philip gently moved her hands away and picked up the suitcases.
When he turned, he saw me. His eyes went wide.
He kept walking, and when he passed me, he swallowed hard, set one suitcase down, and patted my head.
“Take care, little Maya.”
Then he walked away.
Mom followed him, continuing to cry and beg. I didn’t move. But I heard everything.
Mom begging him not to leave. Saying he could come less. That she wouldn’t complain. That she would wait.
That she would do anything. That she loved him.
He didn’t say it back. Not even once.
“It’s over, Graceline,” he said finally.“I’ll always choose my wife. She’s the woman I can’t live without. The one I promised to spend the rest of my life with.”
Then the door slammed. The house went still, except for Mom crying.
