“My family lives in a different state.”
“I don’t really care, Mark,” I said, taking the chicken out of the oven. “Go to a motel. Go to a friend.
Join the circus.”
“And the kids? Where are the kids?”
“They’re with my sister. And they’ll stay there until you sort your nonsense out.
You can tell them the truth after the lawyers work out a settlement. I’m not going down without a fight, Mark.”
A week later, I heard through the grapevine that Emma had dumped Mark.
“It was fun while it lasted, but I didn’t sign up to play mom. To him or his kids.”
Two weeks later, Mark came back.
“What do you want?” I asked, seeing the bunch of flowers in his hand.
“I’ve been so miserable without you,” he said, practically begging.
“Please, let me come back. Please, Lexie. We can fix this.
I miss my kids. I miss our family.”
“I don’t care, Mark!” I blurted out. “I truly don’t care.
Now, if you don’t have anything productive to do here, then leave. The kids are at a playdate, and I’m only fetching them in a few hours.”
Then, I closed the door, leaving him speechless.
It’s been months since that night, and I’ve never been happier. I’ve rediscovered pieces of myself I thought were long gone.
I’ve started taking up salsa dancing, and with that, my confidence, joy and freedom came flooding in.
Amid the chaos, my kids and I have found a new rhythm, one filled with laughter and love.
As for Mark? He’s still single. And from what I hear, Emma’s parents aren’t thrilled with her either.
But Anne does bake cakes and pies and sends them over often. And Howard likes to rake up the leaves in our front yard.
Karma’s a funny thing, isn’t it?
Source: amomama
