I’m done, Jason.
I can’t do this anymore. I’ve been trying to get through to you for months, but you haven’t noticed. You never notice. You don’t pack Mia’s lunches, you don’t ask about her day, you don’t even know her teacher’s name. I’m tired of being the only parent. So, I’m leaving. If you care at all, you’ll figure it out.
My hands trembled as I read the rest.
The note was from Emily, and she had taken Mia to her sister’s house. She said she wasn’t sure if she’d return.
She had also left the divorce papers if I wanted to “make it official.”
“What the…” I said to myself before I understood what was happening.
That’s when my mind replayed every argument, every time Emily had begged me to step up, and every time I brushed it off because I was “too busy” or “too tired.”
All this time, I thought I was being a good provider, but I was just absent. Absent from my own family’s life.
For the next two days, I was a mess. I tried calling Emily a dozen times, but she never picked up. I sent texts, each more desperate than the last, but none got a response. I even tried her sister’s number, but all I got was silence.
During those two days, I couldn’t even walk past Mia’s lunchbox without feeling guilty. It made me realize that I had been so wrapped up in my world that I hadn’t even noticed my wife and daughter slipping away.
On the third day, Emily finally came back.
She walked in with Mia by her side.
“Hey, Mia!” I smiled at my daughter, but she ran straight to her room without saying a word.
Obviously, why would she even look at her so-called father who didn’t have time for her? It all made sense.
As I stood in the doorway, thinking how to correct my mistake, Emily went into the living room and returned with a stack of papers. The divorce papers.
At that point, I knew I couldn’t let her say it. So, before she could speak, I blurted out, “I unpacked the lunchbox.”
“What?” Emily looked confused, her eyebrows knitting together.
“I… I unpacked the lunchbox and read the note,” I managed to say and swallowed hard before continuing.
“I get it now, Emily. I’ve been a terrible father and an even worse husband. I thought I was doing enough just by providing, but I wasn’t. I’ve been absent, and I don’t want to be that man anymore.”
I said everything I wanted to say. All at once. I couldn’t let her say that she wanted to leave me.
That’s when I noticed Emily’s expression soften. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was listening.
Without thinking, I rushed to the kitchen, opened the drawer, and pulled out Mia’s lunchbox. I had packed it the night before.
I knew it wasn’t much, but it was a start.
I opened it and handed it to Emily. Inside was the lunch I’d carefully prepared. A sandwich, some fruit, and a small note I had written:
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