“I’m glad you’re comfortable, Brenda.”
“You know, I told David you’d manage. A woman needs to let her husband breathe. You always did cling.”
I gripped the edge of the counter.
“Is that what you call it?”
“Oh, don’t be sour. He needed a break from all that.”
Whatever hesitation still lived in my chest died quietly.
She meant the kids. She meant me.
“Enjoy the linens, Brenda.”
I ended the call, and whatever hesitation still lived in my chest died quietly.
That night, with the kids safe at my mother’s, I started boxing his things.
That night I boxed everything he owned with calm precision.
I wasn’t angry anymore.
Mom brought the kids back Sunday night, cheeks finally cool. Ellie wandered in past bedtime, blinking at the half-empty living room.
That trust was the whole point.
“Mama, what are you doing?”
“Rearranging, baby. Go back to bed.”
“Is Daddy going to be mad?”
