He had no answer.
For the first time that evening, I saw something other than anger in his face.
Fear.
Not the fear of losing a secret relationship, I suspected, but the fear of losing the life he had always assumed would remain available to him.
The house.
The family dinners.
The familiar routines.
The woman who had spent decades making sure that every holiday, every birthday, and every ordinary day ran smoothly.
He had assumed I would be there forever.
Now he was discovering that love was not a lifetime contract to accept anything he chose to do.
Richard approached quietly.
“Daniel, I suggest you read the letter carefully and discuss the practical matters with your own lawyer. Margaret has every right to seek independent advice.”
Daniel looked at him with resentment.
“You helped her plan this?”
“I helped her understand her options,” Richard answered. “The decisions are hers.”
