Page 39 of The Breaking Point

His face tightens. “I would never do that.”

I give him a look. One we both understand.

“It might not be your choice,” I say. “Your mother will come after me the second she finds out.” And I think, to be honest, so will mine. They adore him. Aiden, the man who stuck by their reckless, pregnant daughter. That’s how they see me. That’s howIsaw me.

His jaw clenches. He nods once, slowly. “I’ll talk to her.”

I turn, ready to leave the room, but he stops me.

“Kate, just because I'm leaving doesn’t mean I’m going to stop fighting to get you back.”

I hesitate, then look down at him. “The person you’re fighting for doesn’t exist anymore.”

He doesn’t answer right away. He just stares at me, like he wants to say something that matters and isn’t sure how.

“I love you,” he says.

I reach for the doorknob.

“Kate,” he says again, and this time I stop, but I don’t turn around.

“If I make an appointment at Orange Cove tomorrow,” he says carefully, “for the two of us… will you come?”

I stand there, thinking. Everything inside me is tired and fractured, but not numb. Not yet. I let myself consider it. Not for the past. Not for the marriage that cracked open in the light. But for the future, whatever shape it takes.

I glance over my shoulder and give a short nod. Not a promise, not forgiveness. Just a beginning.

I may not be the same. But neither is he. And maybe, we owe it to ourselves to find out what is left.

Aiden packs a small bag and puts it in the trunk of his car. He doesn’t say much while he does it, just moves through the house in quiet, deliberate steps. Neither of us really knows what to expect, so we don’t talk about it. Not yet. We agreed we’d wait to say anything until the boys were home. We'd say it together.

My mom texts to say she’s dropping them off on her way to the airport to pick up my brother. I reply,okay, and nothing else.

We sit in the living room, waiting. I keep smoothing the same fold in the blanket on the armrest. Aiden is perched on the edge of the armchair, elbows on his knees. He doesn’t look at me. Just stares at the front door.

Then it opens.

Jack walks in first, backpack slung over one shoulder. Alex trails behind him, hoodie zipped up halfway even though it’s warm out. They both pause when they see us.

“Hey,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Can you two sit down? We need to talk for a minute.”

They exchange a glance but obey, settling onto the couch across from us. The room feels too quiet. Even the air feels heavier.

I look at Aiden. He gives a tiny nod.

Turning back to the boys, I say. “Jack. Alex. Your dad and I… we’ve decided to take some time apart.”

Alex frowns. “What do you mean?”

“We’re separating,” Aiden says, his voice calm but careful. “Just for now. This isn’t a divorce. It’s… space. To figure things out.”

Alex blinks at him, then at me. Jack just sits back with his arms crossed. “Where are you going?” Alex asks, voice small.

“I’ll be staying near my office,” Aiden says. “That apartment building you guys know, the one with the orange awnings.”

“Where you stayed during COVID,” Jack says.

Aiden nods once. “Yeah. There.”

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