Mark moved into a rental apartment.
Daniel moved out of the apartment he had shared with Jenna because he couldn’t bear to remain in a place filled with memories he no longer trusted.
Our daughter, Amy, learned what had happened and called me in tears.
“Mom, is it true?”
“Yes.”
She was silent for a moment.
“Dad?”
“Yes.”
“And Jenna?”
“Yes.”
I heard her crying.
“I don’t understand how they could do this to Daniel.”
“Neither do I.”
“Are you going to take him back?”
I looked around the kitchen.
For years, I had imagined growing old beside Mark. I had imagined grandchildren visiting our home, family holidays, and the quiet comfort of knowing that the person beside me had chosen to stay.
But the man I had imagined growing old with was not the man who had walked out of that hotel.
“No,” I told Amy. “I’m not.”
She exhaled shakily.
