“Helen, listen to me—”
“I listened to you for months,” I said. “I listened when you said you needed a break. I listened when you said we’d talk later. I listened when you acted like abandoning me was temporary and not a choice.”
Claire was already backing away.
Then she turned and walked out of the terminal without looking back.
“Don’t call me,” she told him.
Then she turned and walked out of the terminal without looking back.
Daniel watched her go for one stunned second before turning back to me.
“This isn’t over.”
He had told me I always figured things out.
For once, he was right.
Three sleeping girls. Three pink hats. Three faces he had chosen not to know.
“It is for me.”
He looked at the stroller then. Really looked.
Three sleeping girls. Three pink hats. Three faces he had chosen not to know.
For a split second, something real crossed his face. It was too late for it to matter.
I picked up the Welcome Home, Daddy sign, folded it once down the middle, and tucked it into the bottom basket of the stroller.
Then I put both hands on the handlebar.
I walked past him before he could finish.
“You should read every page before you call anyone,” I said. “Especially the parts about the forged signature.”
“Helen—”
I walked past him before he could finish.
The airport doors slid open, and sunlight hit my face as I pushed my daughters toward the parking lot, without their dad, yes, but with a whole lot more stability now that he was finally gone.
