He leaned against the counter, hands in his pockets, like he’d rehearsed this moment. “I know it’s been hard on you,” he said, voice low. “But Emily deserves someone who’ll be there for her.” I stared at him, the words hanging like smoke. “And you think you’re that someone?” I asked. He looked away, then back, eyes soft. “I thought I was.” That night, I lay awake, replaying his words. Was it guilt? Or was it something else? The next morning, Emily skipped breakfast, eyes bright with secrets. I found her in the garage, hunched over the robot, her fingers trembling as she adjusted its sensors. “It’s almost done,” she said, not meeting my gaze. I knelt beside her, brushing my hand over the metal frame. “Did you know he asked me to call him ‘Dad’ last night?” Her head snapped up. “What?” “He said he wants to be part of your life again. Not just as a mentor.” Her smile faltered. “He said he loves me.” I swallowed hard. “And you believe him?” She shrugged, but the hesitation in her voice told me everything. The robot whirred to life, lights flickering, as if mirroring our tangled emotions. I couldn’t decide if it was a miracle or a mistake. By the time the school play ended, Emily had her arms full of trophies, and I was holding a letter from the ex-husband—addressed to *me*. “I didn’t want to lose you both,” he wrote. “So I’m giving you a choice.” My hands shook as I read. What if he was right? What if I’d been too quick to judge? I looked at Emily, her laughter echoing from the hallway, and wondered if I’d ever stop being a mother and start being a woman again.
What would you have done if you’d been in my shoes?
