Nathan stared at me, stunned. “You can’t just kick me out.
This is my home too.”
“Not anymore,” I said. “Pack your things. Clara might want to hear about how you lied to her, too.”
For the first time, I saw fear flash in his eyes.
He opened his mouth to argue but seemed to realize it was pointless. Without another word, he turned and walked upstairs.
The house felt eerily quiet after Nathan left. Danny didn’t fully understand what was happening, but I made sure to reassure him.
“Daddy’s staying somewhere else for now,” I said gently. “But you and I are going to be okay. I promise.”
The next few weeks were hard.
There were moments when the weight of it all felt unbearable. Nights when I lay awake, wondering how I could have missed the signs. Days when I wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all.
But every time I looked at Danny, I found strength.
One afternoon, Danny came home with a new drawing. “Look, Mommy!” he said, holding it up proudly.
This time, it was just the two of us: Danny and me standing under a big sun. I felt tears sting my eyes as I knelt down to hug him.
“It’s perfect,” I said, my voice breaking.
“Just like us.”
Danny beamed. “We don’t need a sister, right, Mommy? We’re already a family.”
I held him close, whispering, “That’s right.
We’re a perfect family.”
Sometimes, what feels like the end is really just the beginning. Danny and I had been through so much, but together, we found our way.
I learned to trust myself again, to rebuild, and to focus on what truly mattered: creating a safe, loving home for my son.
Danny and I didn’t need anyone else.
We were already enough.
