both walked away.
I didn’t look back at Ryan sitting there with the black box, divorce papers, and two dinner bills spread across the table.
Before I reached the hotel lobby, my phone buzzed.
The babysitter had sent me a picture of my daughter asleep in her crib, one tiny hand curled beside her face.
She went down without a fuss. Sleep well.
I stared at the photo for a moment.
A year earlier, the thought of Ryan leaving had terrified me. I’d imagined myself exhausted and alone with a
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