I couldn’t find the words to express my guilt.

My Mom simply responded with quiet hums.

At the end of the call, neither of us said anything more.

We could only hear each other’s quiet sobbing until the line finally disconnected.

Bracing against the cold wind, I walked home alone.

By the time I arrived, Luna had already fallen asleep, but Jason hadn’t left yet.

Over the years, it had become common for him to spend the night at our house.

Silently, I headed toward the guest room.

As I passed the bathroom, I heard Jason’s voice.

“My mother brought up marriage again today, Amber.”

His words were blunt, and Amber remained silent for a long time.

I fled the spot as if on instinct, afraid of hearing the answer, afraid of confirming what I already knew.

To Amber, our marriage was simply one of convenience.

Yet it still hurt me deeply.

I had begged for our relationship.

As I packed my things, I left behind all traces of the years I had spent with Amber.

There wasn’t much, just a few holiday gifts, carefully preserved. You could still see the faint marks where my fingers had worn the edges smooth.

Now they sat abandoned where they'd always been.

Morning light streamed in as I emerged from my room.

Luna had woken early for kindergarten, and she sat nestled in Jason’s arms, happily eating breakfast.

Amber looked surprised to see me.

She stared for a while before casually saying, “You usually leave early. I didn’t make breakfast for you.”

Then she frowned, perhaps fearing I would make a scene.

“I’m heading to work now, so you’ll have to grab something on your way out.”

Looking at the picture-perfect family before me, I felt like an unwelcome disturbance.

I shook my head gently, then knelt in front of Luna.

“Sweetheart, can Daddy have a hug?”

I didn’t dare to hope for more, just one hug, a simple embrace, a small piece of comfort before I left.

But sadly, Luna didn’t know my intentions.

She slung her backpack over her shoulders and said instead, “Uncle Jason, let’s go.”

Amber opened her mouth as if to say more, then closed it.

“Don't be dramatic. She's not going anywhere,” she finally said.

But I was.

I didn’t say it aloud. I just nodded quietly and smiled painfully.

When the house emptied, the agency car arrived.

The driver looked surprised, likely because I was the only volunteer leaving without my family in tow.

“Mr. Smith,” the driver asked, “are your family members delayed? I can wait.”

“No need for that.”

I dragged my suitcase into the car.

As we pulled away, my entire life receded in the rearview mirror.

“Oh, by the way,” the driver added softly, noticing my gloomy mood, “your divorce application is already being processed on our end.”

I glanced at him, then turned back to the window.

Outside, Luna stood holding an ice cream cone, beaming sweetly up at Jason.

I didn’t need to guess that at that moment, my daughter was happy.

She was happy because I wasn’t there to disturb them. Because in my absence, her world felt peaceful.

The driver noticed, too, and slowed the car.

“Mr. Smith…”

“Just drive.”

I turned away, even as hot tears betrayed me.

My heart was already in shreds, but strangely, I still felt a kind of joy.

Inside, I kept repeating the words: “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

This was how it should be.

I would chase my dreams, and Luna would be free to enjoy the life that made her happy.

What I didn’t know was that at that exact moment, Amber looked up as the car sped past.

As she caught a glimpse of me, she muttered, “What the hell…”

“What is it?” Jason asked, puzzled.

Amber ignored him, pulled out her phone, and tried to send me a message.

A red exclamation mark appeared: [Message failed to send.]