I didn’t have the money to fight, and everything was already stacked in Sean’s favor. By the end, after nine years of marriage, I was left with almost nothing.
Except for one thing.
The court allowed the children to remain under Peter’s roof, since that’s where I was living. It wasn’t everything, but it was enough.
When we got home that day, feeling like I had no other choice, I accepted Peter’s proposal. The kids were safe for now, but Sean still had joint custody, and I didn’t know what he might do next.
When Sean found out about our engagement, he lost control.
He showed up at his father’s house, furious.
Unfortunately, I was the only one home when he started pounding on the door.
“You think this is going to work?” he said when I opened it.
“I’m not doing this,” I replied, trying to close the door, but he jammed his foot in the frame.
“You already did, you [expletive]! Marrying my father?!”
I said nothing.
Sean let out a quiet laugh. “This isn’t over!”
Then he walked away.
Sean didn’t come to the wedding. I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was my children.
The ceremony was small and quick.
I didn’t feel like a bride. I felt like someone signing something permanent without fully understanding it.
Jonathan held my hand through most of it. Lila kept asking when we were going home.
When we returned to the house, the kids ran inside ahead of us.
The door closed behind us, leaving Peter and me alone for the first time as husband and wife.
He turned to me.
“Now that there’s no going back, I can finally tell you why I married you.”
I exhaled slowly, bracing myself.
“You asked me for something years ago,” Peter said. “And I never forgot.”
I frowned. “What’re you talking about?”
“It was after Sean disappeared for a couple of days. The kids were still little.”
And just like that, I remembered.
Jonathan had been about three. Lila was still in a crib.
Sean had vanished for two days. No calls. Nothing.
By the second night, I couldn’t pretend it was normal anymore.
So I called Peter.
“I haven’t heard from him,” I said.
