I considered the question.
“I honestly don’t know.”
He looked at me desperately, waiting for reassurance.
But I wasn’t ready to offer it.
“I need to understand whether you’re willing to repair the damage you’ve caused, or whether you simply want everything to go back to normal so you don’t have to face the consequences.”
For once, Callum didn’t argue.
He lowered his head.
Then he nodded.
And for the first time since he had presented his carefully planned arrangement, I realized the next decision was finally mine.
Three weeks passed.
On the afternoon Callum was scheduled to collect Kieran, he arrived exactly when he had promised.
The moment our son heard the doorbell, he ran toward the entrance.
“Daddy!”
Callum crouched and wrapped him in a hug.
Kieran immediately launched into an excited story about a paper airplane he had made at school.
Apparently, it had almost landed in another child’s lunch.
Callum listened attentively.
He didn’t glance over Kieran’s shoulder to see what I was doing.
He didn’t try to turn the conversation toward me.
He simply listened to our son.
That was something new.
Kieran rushed down the hallway to grab his jacket.
Callum remained beside the open front door.
“Do you still want him back by five?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll make sure he’s home on time.”
I nodded.
He hesitated for a moment.
“Do you need me to pick up anything while we’re out?”
The woman I used to be would have taken that opening and tried to make everything comfortable again.
She would have found some small errand to give him.
Something that made the situation feel normal.
But I wasn’t that woman anymore.
“No, thank you. I have everything I need.”
Callum seemed to understand what I meant.
