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Her mouth took on a stubborn line. “If you aren’t going to believe me, why should I tell you anything?”

Fifteen was such a passionate age. Except for me. I’d worked so hard to bury all my passions and interests so I could blend in and be normal. It was an absolutely excellent choice. Much better than carrying around dead birds.

“Do you think you can handle being in the same school with this boy without having another incident, or should we change schools?” I needed to find a place to move to. The movers were coming tomorrow to pack everything into storage. Another school district would probably be less expensive. I needed to figure out what to do with my life. Would I have to live on child support until I finished a degree and got a good job? That could take years. And how long would it take for the divorce to go through and finances to be sorted? I didn’t want to rely on Clark. I didn’t want to need him for anything—emotional, physical, financial, anything at all.

She gaped at me. “You’re not seriously considering moving me away from all my friends because one stupid boy got on my nerves?”

Here we go. Deep breath. Brace for impact. “We’re moving. I’m trying to decide what school district we should move to.”

She stared at me like I’d sprouted another head. “What?”

“We’re moving. The movers are coming tomorrow.”

She kept staring at me for another long beat before she gave me a slight smile. “You’re joking. You shouldn’t scare me to death just because I got into trouble with the principal.”

“Seriously, we’re moving. We’ll go to a long-term motel until I can find a place, but we’re definitely moving. The house will be on the market tomorrow. They came and did photos today.”

She gaped at me while I went around the car and slid into the driver’s side.

She slipped into the passenger seat, still studying like I was a monster. “You and Dad want us to move, and he’s making you do it without him? What’s going on? Did he lose his job? Are we moving somewhere he doesn’t have to be away so much?”

“We’re staying in the city, but it’s time to move.”

“Why? How does that make sense?”

“Because I’m sick of the house! I’m sick of being the perfect wife in the perfect house with my perfect children! I need a change.” I was breathing hard, heart pounding fast, on the brink of collapse. I didn’t yell at my kids, but here I was, yelling at my sweet girl.

For a second, she was shocked, but then her eyes narrowed. “Seriously? You’re having, like, a midlife crisis and you’re taking it out on me?”

Apparently, she bounced back quickly. That was a good thing. I stared out the window while I started the car. “You just attacked a boy with a garbage can. And then you lied about it. I suppose lying comes naturally to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What else do you think you found out about me?” There was a thread of fear in her voice that had me looking at her.

“Your father has another woman,” I said simply. I hadn’t meant to say anything, hadn’t meant to tell her something that would hurt so much, but the words fell out like drops of acid rain.

Her eyes widened as the anger and fear shifted to absolute horror. “Impossible,” she finally said.

I shrugged. “So I’m moving out of the house while he’s gone.”

“Gone? You mean he’s with another woman right now? I don’t believe it.” She pulled out her phone and called her dad. It rang then went to messages, his warm and steady voice recording coming on. “I’m in a meeting now, but if you leave a message, I’ll call back as soon as possible.”

She stayed there with her phone to her ear while she frowned at me. She slowly lowered the phone and clicked off while her eyes burned bright with anger. “So where were you really this morning? You’re not quite so psycho that you’d go to a yoga class after you find out something like that.”

I blinked at her. “I was the person passed out on the neighbor’s lawn.” Why did I keep saying these things I didn’t mean to say? It was like I had no choice; the words were just pulled out of me.

She blanched then pulled up her knees, holding them tight while she hyperventilated.

I grabbed her shoulder. “Breathe. It’s okay. Steady, even breaths. We’re just fine. It’s just that things will be a little messy for a while. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine. It’s okay to be messy.”

She grabbed my shoulders and whispered, “Then why are you crying? Because things are fine? I’ve never seen you cry before. Nothing’s ever going to be fine again.”

I pulled her into a hug, and we cried together. I shouldn’t have told her. I should’ve carried this burden for her so she didn’t have to shoulder it, but I wasn’t strong enough to carry her anger and my betrayal. I wasn’t strong enough to make good choices when things got difficult. I wasn’t strong enough to do anything.

But I’d do it anyway.

four

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