And…
Fuck.
The longer I let this go on, the deeper Finn sews herself into our lives…the harder it’s going to be.
I was kidding myself to pretend differently, to think this might have another ending.
Maybe I could endure losing Finn.
But Chloe having to do the same?
I can’t?—
Fuck, but Ican’tdo that to her.
Can’t let my daughter tie herself to someone who has one foot out the door, who may leave and never come back.
And I…
Fuck, but I can’t let myself cling to it either.
“Get some sleep, pumpkin,” I say roughly, because it’s the best I can manage. Because I can’t confide in my four-year-old that I’ve just realized in order to protect her I’m going to have to break both of our hearts.
“Okay, Daddy,” she whispers.
I wipe away her tears, bend to lightly press my lips to her forehead. “Goodnight, baby.”
“‘Night.”
I stroke her hair until her eyes slide closed. Then I turn on her nightlight, pick my way to the door. My hands spasm as I reach for the switch, as I flick off the overhead lights.
Pink fills the space.
Bright and sparkly and Chloe.
Reminding me what I’m trying to protect.
I stand in the open doorway for a long time, listening to my daughter’s steady breathing, trying to reassure myself I’m doing the right thing…knowing that there’s no other possible way.
No other outcome.
Sighing, my eyes burning, I pull the door mostly shut, leaving the normal inch for the kittens to roam.
Then I go into my bedroom.
Finn’s in every part of it—her travel planner on the nightstand, a bottle of lotion on the dresser, her clothes in the closet, her shampoo in the shower, her makeup on the counter, one of her blankets spread out on the foot of the bed.
A part of my life.
But for how long?
I grind my teeth together, fist my hands at my sides.
Because I know what I have to do.
And I hate it.
And it will be painful. No.Agonizing.
