Dad stayed home with Noah in the waiting area while Mom sat beside me.
I signed the initial paperwork with trembling hands.
Not because I doubted my decision.
Because ending a marriage is still an ending.
Even when the marriage deserves to end.
I thought about our wedding.
Daniel crying when I walked down the aisle.
Our first apartment.
Burning dinner together.
Buying the house.
The day I told him I was pregnant.
Painting Noah’s nursery.
All of those memories were real.
That was something I had to learn.
Daniel’s betrayal did not automatically make every good moment fake.
The good moments happened.
So did the betrayal.
Both were true.
That made grief complicated.
When I finished signing, Mom took my hand.
“You okay?”
“No.”
She nodded.
“That’s allowed.”
I smiled faintly.
“Did Dad really tell you what he was planning?”
Mom rolled her eyes.
“Eventually.”
“And you agreed?”
