Not after everything.
Not after what he had done.
I wasn’t the one who crossed a line. I wasn’t the one who betrayed vows, trust, and safety. And yet somehow, I was the one being questioned. Managed. Told what to do next time, like I was careless. Like I couldn’t be trusted with my own boundaries.
A few moments passed, enough time for the familiar quiet of the morning to shift, the kind that always came right before Haille woke up. I checked the baby monitor and saw that she was already stirring.
By the time I reached her room, she was sitting up in her crib, curls messy, eyes still heavy with sleep. The moment she saw me, her face lit up.
“Mommy,” she said again, reaching for me.
I lifted her into my arms, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”
She tucked her face into my shoulder for a moment, then pulled back, alert now. “Hungry.”
“I figured,” I smiled.
I changed her, dressed her in leggings and a soft T-shirt, and carried her to the kitchen. Morning light filtered through the windows, warm and quiet.
Breakfast was simple. Scrambled eggs. Toast cut into uneven squares. Strawberries sliced small enough for little hands. A small cup of milk beside her plate.
Haille sat in her chair, humming softly to herself as she ate, one strawberry at a time, milk dripping onto her fingers. I wiped her hands between bites, watching her with a tenderness that grounded me more than anything else ever could.
When I opened the fridge to put the milk back, I noticed how empty it was. The milk carton was nearly finished. Theproduce drawer was bare. There was no protein left except for a sad pack of chicken I’d forgotten to freeze.
I looked down at Haille. “Do you want to go grocery shopping with Mommy?” I asked.
Her head snapped up immediately. “Yes, Mommy!”
I smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Alright, sweetheart. We’ll buy your favorite snacks too, okay?”
“Yay! Thank you, Mommy,” Haille said happily.
—?—
The storewas busy but calm, that late-morning lull where parents with kids and retirees shared the aisles. I navigated slowly, tossing familiar items into the cart. Yogurt. Eggs. Chicken breasts. Vegetables. Snacks for Haille.
I was reaching for a carton of milk when a familiar voice spoke behind me.
“Elena?”
I turned.
Astrid stood there with a reusable bag slung over her shoulder, William beside her, one hand on the shopping cart, already half-full.
“Oh,” I blinked. “Hey.”
Astrid smiled warmly. “I didn’t expect to run into you here.”
“Same,” I said lightly. “Just doing groceries.”
William nodded once. “It’s been a while. Adrian’s out of town, right?”
“Yes,” I replied. “He’ll probably be back this Friday.”
Astrid’s gaze dropped to Haille, her expression softening instantly. She crouched slightly to Haille’s level and smiled.
“Look at you,” she said gently. “You’re getting so big.”
