Nathan’s words hit hard, but when the contractions started, I couldn’t fall apart. He drove off in anger, leaving me alone in the driveway, so I called my neighbor Carla. She rushed over, kept me calm, and got me to the hospital. Nathan never showed.
Hours later, holding my newborn daughter—my little Hope—I realized we’d be just fine without him. His calls came in, full of fake concern, but I ignored every one. His absence said everything.
When he finally came back, the door stayed locked. The divorce was quick, and life moved forward.
Now, when Hope sleeps in my arms and I whisper, “Mommy’s here,” I know we’re building a peaceful, loving life—one that truly began the moment he walked away.
