A garbage bag on the ground | Source: Pexels
“Do you want me to take the girls?” he asked.
“In a minute,” I replied. “Just let me…”
I didn’t finish my sentence, I just left it hanging.
When the house emptied a few hours later, I sat on the sofa with Sophie snuggled up against me. Anna-Lee was already asleep upstairs, cuddling her stuffed unicorn.
A sleeping little girl | Source: Unsplash
A sleeping little girl | Source: Unsplash
“You were very brave today,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “You followed your instincts, even when it was scary. Even when it meant doing something that seemed wrong in front of everyone…”
She didn’t say anything. She just nodded against my chest, the top of her head warm and wet where her hair touched my skin.
“You protected us,” I told him, running my fingers through his hair. “It was the bravest thing anyone could do.”
Outside, the night pressed gently against the windows. In the distance, a dog barked, and the world continued to spin. But inside, we remained huddled together. Me and my little girl, who had interrupted a party and, in doing so, drawn a line in our family that might never be completely erased.
A mother kissing her child’s head | Source: Pexels
A mother kissing her child’s head | Source: Pexels
Morning arrived with a dishwater-colored sky and a kitchen that looked hungover. Plates were stacked neatly by the sink, and a trace of frosting clung to the island like a bruise.
Michael stood at the counter, his sleeves rolled up, washing dishes.
“Coffee?” he offered.
“Yes, please.” My voice was quieter than I intended. We were silent for a moment.
“I hate that she saw all that,” I said. “She’s six. She’s supposed to worry about her crayons and shoelaces, not whether her aunt is trying to ruin a birthday cake.”
A person pouring coffee | Source: Pexels
A person pouring coffee | Source: Pexels
Michael leaned against the sink, the morning light reflecting off the gold rim of his wedding band.
“She’s fine, darling,” he said. “I checked on her twice, she was unconscious.”
“That’s not what I mean,” I continued. “I hate that she had to act , Michael. I can’t stop thinking about her face when she screamed. She shouldn’t know people can be so horrible. Not yet. “
He walked over to me and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
A smiling man | Source: Unsplash
A smiling man | Source: Unsplash
“Or maybe she’s learned something,” he said. “That she can trust what she sees. That her opinion matters. And that we’ll support her when she speaks out.”
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