They lived frugally, using their savings to support Daniel and me.
Daniel had no mother, so whenever we faced difficulties, my parents stepped in to help raise the children.
Even Daniel’s current law firm was started with money my parents raised—selling their large house to move into a smaller one.
He forgot all of that sacrifice.
In his eyes, my father’s life wasn’t even worth fifty thousand.
Twelve years into our marriage, I finally realized Daniel never loved me.
Love shapes everything in a person, but so does contempt.
When I stepped out of the restaurant, Daniel’s car was still parked out front.
The girl in red sat in the passenger seat, pouting as he carefully applied her lipstick. She laughed, leaned in, and kissed him.
I watched through the windshield, their playfulness cutting deep.
When Daniel saw me, his smile froze, his face unashamed.
The girl glanced my way, curious, and at that moment, he floored the accelerator, driving straight past me.
It had rained earlier, leaving a puddle at the curb.
The tires splashed dirty water all over me.
I returned home drenched and shaken. My son, Aaron, rushed toward me, his little arms hovering mid-air.
“Mom, what happened? Did you fall?”