I still remember the morning he left. It wasn’t a fight. It wasn’t screaming or plates smashing against walls. It was quieter than that. Chris woke up, got dressed in his best jeans and sneakers, kissed the babies’ foreheads like a ghost, and walked out the door carrying nothing but a battered duffel bag. No note. No goodbye. No promises to call. Just the soft click of the door and then silence.
At first, I didn’t panic. You don’t panic when the house still smells like pancakes and six little bodies are pulling on your legs asking if they can have more syrup. You just keep going because you have to.
The first signs that he wasn’t coming back were small. The texts went unanswered. The paycheck never showed up. The car insurance notice came stamped “cancelled” in bright red letters. I told myself he needed time, space, that life had crushed him too hard and he just needed to catch his breath. But weeks turned into months, and I realized he caught his……Read Full Story Here……………..
