It had made me feel responsible.
I had let Alexander stand near the doorway of our child’s life, but I had not opened the door to our marriage.
That distinction was small in words and enormous in practice.
Daniel came by the next day with the final papers for the divorce filing.
He set them on the table without asking whether I had changed my mind.
I read each page slowly.
The legal process would take time, and the details of custody and parenting would be handled later, with the baby’s needs at the center.
Alexander had not challenged the filing.
He had not asked me to delay it.
I signed where Daniel indicated.
When I finished, I rested my pen on the paper and looked at my name.
“Does it feel different now?” Daniel asked.
“No,” I said. “It feels like the same decision, written down.”
“That may be enough.”
