Sally's POV
The words spill from my lips the moment I step into the kitchen and see Billy sitting there with his morning cereal. "I know what you've been doing."
His expression shifts instantly, transforming from casual indifference to something darker. The spoon freezes halfway to his mouth as his eyes narrow at me.
"Really? And what exactly do you think that is?" His voice drips with condescension.
Without hesitation, I drop his phone onto the table. The screen blazes to life, displaying message after message from her.
Chelsea: Morning gorgeous.
Chelsea: I crave your hands on me.
Chelsea: After she falls asleep tonight?
Chelsea: You make me feel so alive.
That word burns through me. Alive. While I've been slowly suffocating in this marriage, he's been breathing life into someone else.
"Do you love her?" The question tears from my throat, and I despise how fragile I sound.
Billy stares at the evidence like it might disappear if he looks hard enough. Maybe it would be easier if it could.
"She's nothing serious," he mutters, pushing the device away. "You wouldn't understand."
"No." I step backward, crossing my arms to keep from throwing something at his head. "I understand perfectly. You lied to me. You slept with her while I was here raising Warren alone. While I worked overtime to keep this roof over our heads. While I foolishly believed we still had something worth fighting for."
The silence stretches between us like a chasm.
"I needed someone who saw me, Sally," he says finally. "You've been a ghost since the day we met. Always holding back, always protecting some part of yourself. Always pining for Karl to magically reappear."
His words hit their target, and for a moment I wonder if he's right. Have I been the problem all along?
"You know what? You're absolutely right," I whisper. "Maybe I have been clinging to who I used to be. To broken pieces I've tried desperately to fix. To the hope that someday you might love me as I am instead of trying to reshape me into someone else. But I'm done pretending to be someone I'm not. And I won't let you do the same thing to my son."
"Mummy?" Warren's sleepy voice drifts down from upstairs.
"Where do you think you're going?" Billy demands as I turn toward the stairs.
"Anywhere but here. Somewhere we can actually breathe. I want a divorce."
I pack quickly, throwing clothes and essentials into two bags while Billy sits in stubborn silence downstairs. He doesn't try to stop me. Doesn't even apologize.
Warren stays quiet during the drive, clutching his stuffed wolf against his chest. His worried eyes in the rearview mirror break my heart. He shouldn't have to pay for Billy's betrayal.
"Want to get pancakes for breakfast?" I ask, forcing brightness into my voice.
"Is Billy coming too?"
"No sweetie. Just us now. We're going on an adventure."
"Where are we going?"
"To live near Auntie Juliette." I try to smile, but Warren's eyes fill with tears.
"It's going to be okay, buddy. I promise."
"But what about my friends? And Granny and Grandad's graves?"
My heart clenches. "You'll make wonderful new friends. And Granny and Grandad will always be watching over you, no matter where we are."
While Warren devours his pancakes, I make the necessary calls. The landlord Juliette found is understanding about our situation. After a quick background check, he agrees to let us move in immediately.
The house Juliette recommended looks perfect in the photos, smaller than what we're leaving behind but exactly right for just the two of us. The local school seems excellent, and after speaking with the principal, I schedule a visit for tomorrow.
After breakfast, we stop at the flower shop next door. Warren picks his favorites while I select lavender and blue roses for my parents' grave. My eyes catch on the black roses, and I add one to my purchase.
"Should I include this with the bouquet?" the florist asks.
"No thank you. Keep that one separate."
At the cemetery, Warren carefully places the flowers on my parents' headstone. He was only hours old when they died in that terrible accident, but I've made sure he knows their stories. Losing Karl nearly destroyed me, but losing my parents while I was still recovering from childbirth almost finished the job.
They would have adored Warren. I could use my mother's wisdom right now, her gentle way of helping me see the path forward.
After saying goodbye, we have one more stop to make.
Karl's old house sits exactly as I remember it, though the garden has grown wild and paint peels from the iron gate. The sight floods me with memories I've kept locked away.
"Who lived here, Mummy?" Warren asks.
"This was your daddy's house, before he disappeared."
I've never lied to Warren about his father. He deserves to know that Karl didn't choose to leave him.
"Maybe he's hiding inside! Under the bed, like I do when I'm scared," Warren suggests with heartbreaking innocence.
"He's not in there, sweetheart."
"Can I come with you?"
I help him from the car and take the black rose. The rusted gate screams in protest as I force it open. No one has been here in years.
Walking up that familiar path, I remember our first date. How my breath caught when Karl opened this very door, his blue eyes capturing my soul. How we sat nervously on opposite ends of his couch until our fingers barely touched over the popcorn bowl, sending electricity through my entire body.
No one has ever made me feel the way Karl did. Every touch was healing, every kiss ignited something deep within me, every embrace was absolute safety.
Warren breaks from my grip, pressing his small hand against the door and closing his eyes.
"He's not here," he announces sadly, returning to my side.
I place the black rose on the doorstep.
"What does the black one mean?" Warren asks.
"Strength, power, hope. Sometimes sympathy, or the end of something."
Taking one final look, I turn away. This chapter of my life is closing. No more living with ghosts or clinging to the past. We're moving toward whatever future awaits us.
As we cross the town limits, I glance back one last time. We had happiness here once, but betrayal has poisoned those memories. Time to create new ones.