“I don’t know if I can do it,” she whispered.
“Yes, you can,” I said. “You’re stronger than this, Nora. And your daughter needs you.”
She looked like she was about to collapse under the weight of it all.
For a brief moment, I thought she might finally stay. Her shoulders sagged, her breath came in uneven pulls, and she stared past me.
“Yes, you can…”
“You don’t understand,” she whispered. “If I stay, I put you both in danger. He doesn’t lose or let go.”
“We’ll call the police,” I said. “We’ll call a lawyer. Anyone.”
She shook her head, and her voice broke completely.
“I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to Willa because of me.”
I took a step closer. “Running isn’t protecting her,” I said. “It’s hurting her!”
She squeezed her eyes shut, then stepped back.
“It’s hurting her!”
“Nora,” I said, my voice rising. “Don’t do this again.”
She looked at me one last time, and I saw it clearly then. She was terrified — not of Willa or me, but of the man who had erased her life so completely that even standing in front of her own father felt dangerous.
And then she turned and ran!
Fast steps, head down, disappearing into the falling snow until the streetlight held nothing but empty air.
“Don’t do this again.”
I stood there long after she was gone. I had just found my daughter again, only to lose her a second time.
When I went back inside, Willa was still by the window.
“Did you talk to her?” she asked softly.
I forced myself to smile, kneeling in front of her.
“There was someone out there,” I said carefully. “But it wasn’t your mom. Just someone who looked like her.”
“Did you talk to her?”
She studied my face in a way no six-year-old should have to.
“No,” she said gently. “It was Mommy. I know it.”
I didn’t argue. I just hugged her tight.
That night, after she fell asleep, I sat alone at the kitchen table until well past midnight, replaying every word, look, and chance I might have missed to stop Nora from running again.
I didn’t argue.
The phone rang the next morning while I was making toast.
“Dad,” Nora said, her voice barely holding together. “Can we meet? Please.”
“Where are you?” I asked.
“A café downtown,” she said. “The one near the courthouse.”
“I’ll be there,” I said.
She hung up before I could say anything else.
“I’ll be there…”
For Complete Cooking STEPS Please Head On Over To Next Page Or Open button (>) and don’t forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
