The pay wasn’t six figures, but it was solid. We moved to a cozier apartment, and I started taking care of myself again.
I hit the gym, cooked real meals, and created a routine for the kids. We weren’t just surviving anymore; we were thriving.
I should ignore her, finish my drink, and leave immediately. But she was, after all, the mother of my children.
Unlike her, I wasn’t heartless. I… still seemed to care.
She must have sensed my stare because she looked up.
Her eyes met mine, and her expression shifted from shock to shame.
I could’ve stayed in place, but my body moved before I even had time to consider it. Leaving my cup and laptop on the table, I walked toward the woman who had broken our home.
“Anna,” I said, clearing my throat. “What happened?”
Her eyes darted around as if searching for an escape.
But there was none. “David,” she whispered, fidgeting with her hands. “I… I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Clearly,” I said, pulling out the chair across from her.
“You left us. You walked out without any remorse. And now, two years later, I find you crying in a café?
What’s going on?”
She looked down at the table, her fingers twisting until her knuckles turned white. “I made a mistake,” she finally said, exhaling loudly as if making a horrible and shameful confession.
I leaned back, crossing my arms. “A mistake?
You think leaving your husband and kids was just a mistake?”
Her head shook as her eyes filled with fresh tears. “I know it’s not just a mistake. But I thought I… I thought I could do better on my own.
It was all too much. The bills and not knowing how to survive. My money wasn’t enough for the life we’d led.”
