“Why?”
There were dozens of answers.
The messages.
The hotels.
The lies.
The photograph of our son’s nursery turned into a joke between Daniel and another woman.
But in the end, my answer was simpler.
“Because when I imagine spending the next thirty years wondering whether you’re telling me the truth, I can’t breathe.”
He stared at me.
“I’ll earn it back.”
“Maybe you could.”
I swallowed.
“But I don’t want to spend years waiting to find out.”
Daniel began crying quietly.
A part of me still loved him.
That was perhaps the saddest truth.
Leaving someone doesn’t always mean love has disappeared.
Sometimes love remains while trust doesn’t.
And sometimes that is enough to end a marriage.
Part 9 — One Week Later
A week after Noah and I left the hospital, my mother drove us to an attorney’s office.
