hear those words.
Now they arrived when I no longer needed them to determine my future.
“Thank you,” I said.
Then I got into the car.
I didn’t look back until I reached the gate.
Dominic was still standing beside the garden.
For once, he wasn’t holding a phone.
He wasn’t rushing to a meeting.
He wasn’t choosing someone else’s celebration over his family.
He was simply standing in the place where our daughter had once laughed.
And I hoped that whatever life he built next, he would remember what truly mattered.
When I returned to Toronto, spring had finally arrived.
The trees along my street were beginning to bloom.
I carried my suitcase upstairs and placed Sophie’s photograph beside her stuffed rabbit.
Then I opened the balcony doors.
Fresh air filled the apartment.
