Her face crumpled, and I pulled her into a hug. For the first time in years, we cried together—not as lovers, but as two people who were once children themselves, thrown into a mess too big for their young hearts.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into my shoulder.
“Me too,” I murmured into her hair.
We sat there in silence until the tears dried. When we pulled apart, something in both of us had shifted—something had let go.
The next morning, it didn’t take long for the storm to hit.
“You what?” My father’s voice boomed across the phone.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, pacing by the window. “I’m filing for divorce.”
“You ungrateful—do you realize what you’re doing to this family? To the company?”
I smiled thinly. “Funny you mention the company. Because as of last month, I own the controlling shares, remember? Which means you can yell all you want, but you can’t stop me.”
There was a stunned pause. Then, a low snarl, “You’ll regret this.”
“Maybe,” I said softly. “But at least I’ll regret it on my own terms.” And I hung up.
That night, I found Karla in her room, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her dolls spread out. Her tiny face lit up when she saw me.
“Daddy!”
“Hey, princess.” I scooped her into my arms, kissing the top of her curly head. I sat down on her bed, holding her on my lap, her little hands playing with my watch.
“Baby,” I began gently, “Daddy needs to tell you something important.”
She blinked up at me, wide-eyed. “Is it about Mommy?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Mommy and Daddy… we’re going to live in different houses soon.”
Her brow scrunched in confusion. “Why?”
“Because sometimes, even when people care about each other, they realize they’re better at being friends, not husband and wife.”
Her lip quivered. “But… you’ll still come for breakfast?”
I smiled softly, brushing her cheek. “Of course. And you’ll come visit Daddy at his new house too. We’ll still have our park days, our pancake Sundays, our movie nights. Nothing changes that, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered, sniffling.
I kissed her forehead, hugging her tight as she clung to my neck. “Hey, remember what I always tell you?”
She mumbled into my chest, “You love me to the moon and back.”
I felt the crack in my heart widen, but I held it together. “That’s right, baby. And that’s never, ever going to change.”
I tucked her in, singing softly until her eyes fluttered shut. Then I sat by her bed for a long time, just watching her breathe, memorizing the rise and fall of her chest, the little fingers curled by her face.
When I finally left her room, the house was quiet again, but this time, it wasn’t suffocating. It was bittersweet.
I stood on the balcony, the cool night air brushing my face. For the first time in five years, I felt the weight lift—just enough tosee the stars again. Brittany’s name echoed in my mind, a soft whisper at first, then a growing pulse under my skin.
I didn’t know if she’d take me back. I didn’t know if I even deserved the chance. But for the first time, I was free to try.
And God help me, I was going to try with everything I had.
