Weeks later, Jack’s mother came. She was pale, regretful.
“Emily, I didn’t mean this.”
I crossed my arms. “You lied. You said our babies were a curse.”
She nodded, crying. “I was afraid. I thought he’d forget me. I never thought he’d leave.”
My anger eased a bit. “Your fear broke my family.”
She looked down. “I’m sorry.”
I thought of my daughters. “I have nothing to say.”
She left. I felt relief and sadness.
A year later, Jack came. He looked worn. He begged to come back.
But I knew better. I looked at him. “I have a family, Jack. You left when we needed you. I don’t need you now.”
I closed the door, feeling lighter. It was him who ruined his life.