You could have heard a pin drop. None of us understood what we had just heard.
Dad continued as if he were commenting on the weather. “You’re not the woman I married. The gray hair, the wrinkles… the extra weight.”
I leaned forward. “What the heck, Dad?”
He didn’t even glance at me. “I’ve taken care of myself. I still look good, and I still have time. I deserve someone who matches that.”
Lucy started crying.
Dad placed the folder in front of Mom. “I didn’t sign up to grow old with someone who let herself go. Happy birthday.”
Mom stared at it. Owen reached over and untied the ribbon. The papers slid out.
Divorce documents.
I wish I could say Mom yelled at him. I wish I could say she threw the papers in his face or smashed the cake or did anything that matched what he deserved.
But she just sat there. Her face went blank in a way that scared me.
That night, Dad packed a suitcase while the rest of us stood there in disbelief. Ben paced. Nora was furious in that dangerously quiet way she had. Lucy stayed glued to Mom. Owen looked completely lost.
When Dad came down the hallway with his bag, Mom stopped him at the door. “You’re leaving now?”
“I’ll come back for the rest later.”
He stepped past her and left.
After that, everything unraveled quickly.
Within weeks, Dad was posting photos online with a woman named Tessa who looked like she was in her twenties—only a few years older than me.
It made me sick.
They were at rooftop bars, wineries, beach resorts. Dad bought new clothes, whitened his teeth, and got an expensive haircut. Nora checked his social media every day.
“You’re really going to keep watching this?” Ben asked once.
“I want to know what kind of person he thinks he is now,” Nora snapped.
Meanwhile, Mom kept cooking for seven. The first time I saw her do it after he left, I nearly broke.
She set the plates on the table automatically, then stood there staring at the extra one. I quietly got up and removed it. She turned too quickly.
“I know. I know.”
“It’s okay,” I said.
“I’m fine,” she always said, but she wasn’t fine at all.
One night, I came downstairs and found her holding an old photo from when I was little.
“Do I really look that different?” she whispered. “Is that all I am now? Something that got old?”
I felt a chill. “Mom.”
She looked at me, eyes red but dry. “Be honest, did I change that much?”
“No. He did.”
She looked back at the picture. “I gave him everything.”
There was no arguing with that.
After that, we stepped in more firmly.
When Mom said she had a meeting with a lawyer, Nora grabbed her keys. “I’m coming.”
“You don’t need to.”
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