It was the kind of thing I didn’t dare interrupt in case I ruined the moment.
I leaned against the doorframe, taking them in. Oscar, with his tongue out concentration, Sophie absentmindedly playing with the edge of the blanket, Ruby clutching her stuffed bunny like it was part of her soul.
They looked so peaceful, so completely at home with each other. And for a second, something inside me clenched.
How could I ever question this life?
It wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t always peaceful. Some days, it felt like all I did was break up arguments, clean up messes, and wonder if I'd ever get through a conversation with Emma that wasn’t about schedules or school forms.
But then I looked at them; these three little people who existed because of us, who had bits of me and bits of her all mixed together, who were best friends even when they were worst enemies. And I knew.
Emma gave me this. She gave me them. And whatever it takes, I have to make it work.
Because this? This is everything.
I thought about the way Emma said it.
Divorce.
Not angry. Wounded. And I realised something I didn’t want to admit:
I’ve been waiting for things to calm down.
Like calm is coming. Like parenthood is a phase you survive and then you get your marriage back intact. But Emma doesn’t need me to wait. She needs me to show up.
So I stood in the kitchen, staring at the empty milk spot in the fridge. Then I found a sticky note and a pen.
My hand hovered for a second.
I didn’t know how to fix a marriage with a piece of paper.But I knew how to start.
I wrote:
Let’s get milk together after work.
I stuck it on the coffee machine where she couldn’t miss it. Then I went upstairs and to quietly get ready for work, leaving Emma fast asleep in bed. She was on her side, facing away.
I stood there for a minute, staring at her. I wanted to reach for her. I didn’t. Not yet. But I whispered it anyway, so quietly I wasn’t sure she heard.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Her breathing changed. Just slightly. Like she was awake. Like she was listening. And for the first time since she said the word divorce, something in my chest loosened a fraction.
Not relief.
Not safety.
Just a fragile, stubborn decision.
We try.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EMMA
I remember a time not so long ago when I’d wake up every morning with a heart full of excitement, a promise of new possibilities with Dan.
Back then, our world was a collage of whispered secrets, spontaneous adventures, and a laughter that filled every quiet moment.
