I felt my knees go weak. “Amber, please. You don’t mean this.”
“I do mean it!” she sobbed. “Pack your things and leave. I can’t have you poisoning my relationship anymore. I can’t have you ruining my chance at happiness!”
I looked at her face and saw nothing but anger and pain. Even as she screamed at me to leave, even as Louis smirked behind her shoulder, I found myself praying silently. God, please protect her. Please give her wisdom. Please keep her safe, even if I can’t be there to do it myself.
I packed a single suitcase that evening and left the house I’d called home for 25 years. As I drove away, I saw Louis’s car already parked in my driveway, and I knew he was moving in before my taillights had even disappeared. I stayed at a friend’s place for a few days before renting a tiny one-bedroom apartment across town and throwing myself into work. I picked up extra shifts at the hardware store, anything to keep my mind off the empty silence where my daughter’s voice used to be.
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