“But, Mom, is it really too late to get back together with Dad?” Veronica asked, her voice small and hopeful.
I sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I don’t know, sweetheart. But what I do know is that we need to support each other and be honest. No more lies, okay?”
They nodded, and I tried to lighten the mood. “And just so you know, I’ll remember this when it’s your turn to bring a guy home.”
The girls laughed, but deep inside, a question kept haunting me—was it really too late to put aside those differences and get my life back with Roger for our children’s sake?
The next day, I couldn’t focus at work. My mind kept drifting back to the conversation with my daughters. Could it really be possible to rekindle things with Roger? I decided to call him.
“Hey, Roger. Do you have a minute?” I nervously asked when he answered.
“Sure, Melinda. What’s up?” He sounded curious but not unkind.
“I think we need to talk. In person. It’s about the girls,” I said, my voice trembling slightly.
“Okay. How about tonight at that coffee shop we used to go to?” he suggested.
“That works. See you at seven,” I agreed, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach.
At seven sharp, I walked into the bustling coffee shop, spotting Roger at a corner table. He looked up, giving me a small smile.
“Hey, Melinda,” he greeted me as I sat down.
“Hi, Roger. Thanks for meeting me,” I said, fidgeting with my coffee cup.
“So, what’s on your mind?” he asked, leaning forward.
“The girls. They’ve been… sabotaging my relationships because they still hope we’ll get back together,” I blurted out.
Roger looked shocked. “What? Why didn’t they say anything?”
“They were scared. They thought I’d be mad. But it’s more than that, Roger. They miss our family. They want us to be together again,” I explained.
Roger sighed, rubbing his temples. “I had no idea. I thought they were handling the divorce well.”
“I did too. But it’s clear they’re not. I know we had our differences, but maybe… for their sake, we should try to work things out,” I suggested hesitantly.
He looked at me, a storm of emotions crossing his face. “It’s not that simple, Melinda. We had real issues. That’s why I decided to remain single after the divorce.”
“I know. But maybe we can try counseling. See if there’s anything left worth saving. For the girls,” I pleaded.
Roger sighed again, looking out the window. “Alright. Let’s give it a shot. For the girls.”
The next few weeks were a whirlwind of emotions. Roger and I started going to counseling, trying to rebuild the trust and communication we had lost.
It wasn’t easy. There were days I felt hopeful, and on some days, I wanted to give up. But the thought of our daughters kept me going.
