But he’d already done both.
Footsteps creaked below.
…he did it because he was dying.
“Mom?” Caleb called.
“I’m fine, sweetheart!” I lied again.
I shoved the papers into my arms and climbed down.
Back in our bedroom, I spread everything across the bed.
There was a return address on one of Caroline’s letters.
Birch Lane.
I didn’t need a city name; it was ours and only 20 minutes away.
I lied again.
I gathered everything and placed it inside my bedside drawer.
If I waited, I would talk myself out of it.
So I walked over to my neighbor, Kelly, and asked if she could watch the kids for a few moments.
She was a stay-at-home mom with an 11-year-old son, and she loved kids. Kelly gladly accepted and welcomed my little troops.
The oldest one looked at me suspiciously before entering Kelly’s house.
If I waited, I would talk myself out of it.
Back home, I grabbed my keys.
***
The drive to Birch Lane felt unreal. My heart pounded so hard it made my fingers tingle against the steering wheel.
What if she slammed the door?
What if she didn’t know he was dead?
What if she hated me?
I parked in front of a modest blue house with white shutters.
Then I walked up to the door and knocked.
Footsteps approached.
What if she hated me?
When the door opened, my breath left my body.
Caroline stood there.
She wasn’t a stranger, but the woman who used to live three houses down from Daniel and me before disappearing!
She’d brought over banana bread when Emma was born.
Her face drained of color.
“Claire,” she whispered.
Behind her, a little girl peeked around her leg.
She had dark hair and Daniel’s eyes.
My knees nearly buckled.
Caroline stood there.
“You,” I said hoarsely.
Caroline’s eyes filled with tears.
I swallowed hard.
Caroline’s voice trembled. “Where’s Daniel?”
“He died, but he left me a responsibility,” I said.
Silence stretched between us.
“I never meant to destroy your family,” Caroline whispered.
“You asked him to leave us,” I replied.
Her shoulders shook.
“Yes. I loved him.”
“The feeling wasn’t mutual,” I said.
The honesty hit harder than denial would have.
“Where’s Daniel?”
“He knew he was dying,” I said. “That’s why he told me. He didn’t want your daughter left with nothing.”
Caroline nodded. “The payments stopped last month. I figured something had happened.”
“They’ll restart,” I said honestly. “But that doesn’t mean we’re family.”
Caroline looked at me in shock.
“I’m angry,” I continued. “I don’t know how long I’ll be angry. But Ava didn’t do anything wrong.”
“And now,” I added, “I’m choosing what kind of person I want to be.”
The words surprised even me.
“They’ll restart.”
That evening, when I drove home, things felt unusually quiet.
And for the first time since Daniel died, I didn’t feel powerless.
I felt like the one making the choice.
