Leah
Daniel waited four days before he texted me again.
I appreciated it.
I hated that I appreciated it.
Space felt different when somebody gave it to you on purpose. Not silence with teeth. Not punishment. Just room.
His first text after Edward filed for divorce had sat on my phone like something heavy in my purse.
Dad gave Mom divorce papers. I heard more than I was supposed to. I need to talk to you when you’re ready. Not today if you don’t want. Not because I need you to make me feel better. Because I owe you an apology from me.
I had answered with the only thing I could give him.
I’ll tell you when I’m ready.
Then he waited.
No follow-up.
No “just checking in.”
No soft little message that really meant, please make me feel less awful.
He waited.
On Tuesday morning, after
