But I was already reaching for my coat.
“I got the answer I came for.”
“I betrayed you.”
****
Aaron came to Diana’s the next morning.
I met him at the door.
“Elena, I was wrong. About everything. Please come home. I’ll do therapy. Anything.”
I looked down the hallway at the bassinet where our son was sleeping. Then at Aaron.
“I begged you to stay.”
“No.”
“Elena, please.”
“One birthmark was enough for you to believe I betrayed you. My word wasn’t enough to make you believe I hadn’t. I had to prove myself to my own husband.”
“I was angry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I begged you to stay. And you walked out.”
I turned toward the bassinet.
He reached for my hand. I pulled it back.
“You didn’t need proof to condemn me. You needed proof to believe me. I can’t build a life on that.”
Behind me, my son began to fuss.
Aaron said my name again.
I turned toward the bassinet instead.
I was choosing myself.
For years, keeping Aaron happy had been easier than disappointing him. I had swallowed my doubts, agreed to one more pregnancy, and made myself smaller to keep our family together.
But somewhere between the hospital room where he abandoned me and the doorway where I finally told him no, something in me had changed.
I finally understood that protecting my family didn’t mean sacrificing myself to keep it together.
I lifted my son into my arms and walked away without looking back.
For the first time in years, I wasn’t choosing Aaron.
I was choosing myself.
