One afternoon, while the children were at school, I called Daniel’s office.
His manager sounded uncomfortable.
“Emily, Daniel took personal leave almost two weeks ago.”
I froze.
“Two weeks?”
“Yes.”
That meant he had planned to leave before the night he packed his suitcase.
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That evening, I searched his desk.
I hated doing it, but I needed answers.
Several folders were missing.
His passport was gone.
Copies of our mortgage documents were gone too.
Then I noticed the folder containing our savings-account information was missing.
My stomach dropped.
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This was not spontaneous.
Daniel had prepared.
Twelve days after he left, my phone buzzed with a bank alert.
A large amount of money had been transferred from our joint savings account.
I called him immediately.
Voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
I sent one message.
Daniel, you have five children at home and another baby coming. What are you doing?
He did not respond.
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That night, I was sitting at the kitchen table when Emma came downstairs.
“Mom?”
I quickly wiped my face.
“What is it?”
She stood there in her pajamas.
“Is Dad coming back?”
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I opened my mouth, but no answer came.
Then she asked quietly, “Does he not want us anymore?”
That question broke something inside me.
I pulled her close.
“Of course he loves you.”
I wanted to believe it.
Two nights later, my contractions started.
My mother rushed me to the hospital while my sister stayed with the children.
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I kept looking at my phone.
Nothing.
Hours later, our sixth child was born.
A baby boy.
When the nurse placed him in my arms, I cried.
He had Daniel’s dark hair.
For months, Daniel had talked about meeting him.
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He had helped me choose the crib.
He had argued with me about names.
He had put his hand on my stomach and smiled whenever the baby kicked.
Now he was gone.
The next morning, my mother walked into the hospital room holding a large envelope.
Her face was pale.
“I found this at your front door.”
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My name was written on it in Daniel’s handwriting.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside were several official-looking pages and a handwritten letter.
The first page said:
Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.
Divorce papers.
For several seconds, I could not breathe.
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Then I opened Daniel’s letter.
Emily,
I know I should have told you the truth before I left. I was afraid to say it out loud.
I kept reading.
I have been unhappy for a long time. I kept telling myself I would adjust. I thought I could handle everything. But when I realized we were actually going to have six children, I panicked.
