Julianne nodded.
That was another new idea. Decisions did not have to become cages.
Across the ocean, Marcus sat in the darkened living room of his parents’ house, scrolling through old photos on his phone.
There was Julianne at Theo’s sixth birthday, holding a cake shaped like a rocket ship. Julianne asleep on the sofa with newborn Lily on her chest. Julianne standing on the balcony of the condo at sunset, hair loose, smiling at something outside the frame.
He tried to remember what he had said right before taking that photo.
He couldn’t.
He remembered what he said afterward, though.
Don’t post that one. You look tired.
He had thought it was honesty.
Now, alone in the blue glow of his screen, it sounded like theft.
A message came through from Penelope.
I won’t be seeing you again. Please don’t contact me directly. Any necessary communication can go through my attorney.
Marcus stared at it.
Then, a second message arrived.
This child deserves peace. So do your children.
He threw the phone onto the sofa beside him.
For several seconds, he sat breathing hard, waiting for anger to come rescue him from shame.
It came, but weakly.
Behind it was something worse.
A question.
What if every person leaving him was not betrayal?
What if it was consequence?
He hated the thought and reached for his phone again, ready to call Julianne, to demand, explain, apologize, blame—anything that would make her answer.
But her number no longer connected.
Not blocked.
Changed.
The finality of that small technical fact unnerved him more than he wanted to admit.
In London, the next few days unfolded gently, though not easily.
The children woke at odd hours. Theo asked whether he would still have his chessboard. Lily cried because she missed her bedroom, then felt guilty because she did not miss the yelling. Julianne enrolled them temporarily in a small international school recommended by Mira’s neighbor, a place with warm teachers and bright classrooms overlooking a courtyard.
On the first morning, Theo stood outside the school gate clutching his backpack straps.
“What if they ask why we moved?” he said.
