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‘As my depression deepened, I pushed Deacon away. I couldn’t stand to be touched, which led to a sexless spell in our marriage. Back then, I judged him as incapable of holding my sorrow alongside his own. I locked him out, and it hurt him. When his patience snapped, he accused me of not being able to move on. We fought over tiny details, from disciplining Raff to choosing dinner. We became a total train wreck. The energy at home grew so toxic that I filed for divorce. I didn’t have the strength to stay with him and Raff without Estella.’

Shalini set down her mug and looked me straight in the eye.

‘Listen to me. You judged him, but he also failed you when you were drowning. Pain twists you into horrible knots, and you do and say things you don’t mean. You locked him out to protect yourself, and he reacted out of rejection and agony.’

‘I made it worse, the divorce wrecked him,’ I whispered, the memory cutting deep.

How could you do this to us?

That’s what Deacon muttered as I slid the papers across the restaurant table all those years ago.

I’d already moved out of our townhouse and into my own place.

I told him, ‘We’re not happy, honey. We can’t parent Raff when we’re both so broken, forcing this relationship to work.’

He begged me. ‘We just need more therapy, baby. Please.’

I put my foot down. ‘All we do is fight and snipe at each other. It’s toxic for Raff, and watching us spiral is worse for him.’

He stared at me, his eyes filled with pain.

‘You really want this?’ he asked.

I nodded, and with a scrawl across the paperwork, Deacon granted me my freedom.

Now, I shook my head, trying to shake off the traumatic memories.

‘I wrecked us,’ I murmured to Shalini as anguish lanced through me.

‘You made a panic move because you thought you were protecting your son and saving yourselves,’ Shalini said. ‘Don’t rewrite history to make yourself the villain. You were terrified, but you also chose running away over standing in the fire together.’

‘I took the coward’s way out, and Deacon has probably never forgiven me for it. After that, we agreed on shared custody and fell into cold exchanges, limiting contact to hand-offs.’

However, the separation had never been a walk in the park for me.

I was figuring out co-parenting while navigating a career change from model and stay-at-home mum to professional photographer.

I juggled interviews with magazine editors and parent-teacher nights.

It was turbulent, to say the least.

‘Raff was more resilient than both of us,’ I went on. ‘He needed reassurance that everything was fine, and once he got it, he settled into our new normal fast.’

Shalini nodded. ‘You’re both great parents and made him feel secure. You gave him stability, even though you put each other on ice.’

‘I still saw myself as a failed wife and mother. Work became the one place where I was winning,’ I admitted, sipping my chai. ‘Losing Estella shifted my entire focus. It killed any desire I had for the runway. Standing in front of a camera felt fake after planning an infant’s funeral, so I switched from modeling to photojournalism, and from Deacon to Max.’

Shalini arched an eyebrow.

‘Ah, Max.’

‘You’ve never liked him.’

Shalini’s lips twitched. ‘I’ve never liked him for you. And after the shit he pulled, with Ethiopia and with his affair, he’s on my burn list. Besides, I’ve always been Team Deacon all the way.’

I sighed.

‘You and Deacon are good friends, and I know you’ve always thought I remarried too fast.’