We separated. He moved into an apartment. I stayed in the house with the kids.
I gave them the age-appropriate version.
“This is about grown-up choices. Not you.”
“Dad and I are not going to live together anymore,” I told them at the kitchen table. “But we both love you very much.”
Ella stared at her hands.
“Did we do something wrong?” she whispered.
My heart cracked.
“No,” I said. “This is about grown-up choices. Not you.”
They didn’t get details. They didn’t need those scars.
Every message made me angrier.
Daniel tried to apologize. A lot.
Texts. Emails. Voice mails.
“I made a mistake. I was scared after the surgery. I’ll cut Kara off. We can fix this.”
Every message made me angrier.
You don’t “fix” the image of your husband and your sister together.
I focused on work. On the kids. On healing.
“Have you heard about Daniel’s work situation?”
Then Karma started warming up.
First, it was whispers.
A friend of a friend mentioned “issues” at Daniel’s company.
Then Priya called.
“Have you heard about Daniel’s work situation?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “What now?”
