Not a woman who wanted revenge.
A woman who had finally stopped accepting less than she deserved.
The green duffel bag was still by the stairs.
The bank statement was still on the table.
The feeding records were still there.
And two sleeping babies were upstairs, completely unaware that their parents’ marriage had reached a turning point.
I looked at Brandon and understood that I couldn’t decide whether our marriage would survive.
But I could decide what kind of mother I would be.
I could decide what kind of life my daughters would see.
And I could decide that loving my family would never again mean abandoning myself.
Because I had spent six months keeping everyone else afloat.
Now it was time to make sure I didn’t disappear beneath the surface with them.
