Five minutes after our divorce became final, my husband looked me in the eyes and said, “Take the girls, Lena. I have a son coming now.” He thought he was leaving behind an ordinary wife and two daughters he no longer needed—but by that afternoon, he would discover I was a U.S. Army colonel, and the “heir” his entire family was celebrating might not even be his. – usnews

Mom hasn’t spoken to Brielle since the results.

A minute later:

I lost my family.

I read that sentence carefully.

Then I typed back for the first time in six weeks.

No, Preston.

You abandoned your family.

There is a difference.

Three dots appeared.

Disappeared.

Appeared again.

Finally:

Can I fix this?

I looked through the balcony doors.

Madeline and Sophie were on the floor building something out of cardboard.

Sophie had drawn stars across the top.

Hundreds of them.

Her new room had glow-in-the-dark stars too.

We had put them up together.

I typed:

You can work on your relationship with your daughters.

He replied immediately.

And you?

I stared at the question.

For years, I would have softened the answer.

Explained.

Comforted him.

Protected him from the consequences of what he had done.

Not anymore.

There is no “you and me” to fix.

A long time passed.