Wasn't ready to sign papers that made her marriage officially over. wasn't ready to face the reality that 6 years of her life had been reduced to legal documents and asset division. The phone rang again, same number. She let it go to voicemail, then sat down at the kitchen island and put her head in her hands. This was ridiculous. She was 30 years old, living in a stranger's house, hiding from a divorce lawyer like a coward.
She needed to get her life together. Needed to find a job, find an apartment, stop pretending this temporary arrangement was anything other than charity. The front door opened. Too early for the kids. Adrien must have forgotten something.
But it was Sophieie who came barreling into the kitchen, coat half off, backpack dragging behind her. "Why are you home?" Lena asked, alarm spiking. "Are you sick?" "Half day.
Teacher conferences." Sophieie climbed onto a stool. Dad forgot to tell you, didn't he? Apparently, he's been forgetting stuff a lot lately. Last week, he missed Thomas's science fair.
She said it matter-of-factly. No blame. He felt really bad about it. Lena tried to remember if Adrien had mentioned a half day. She'd written down everything else in the notebook she kept by the fridge, but there was nothing about today.
"Want a snack?" she asked. "Can I have the cookies? The chocolate ones?" Does your dad usually let you have cookies at 2:00 in the afternoon? Sophieie gave her a look that was pure calculation.
He's not here. Nice try. Apple or crackers. You're mean. I'm practical.
Pick one. Sophieie sighed dramatically but accepted the apple slices Lena cut up. Emma's mom lets her have cookies whenever she wants. Emma's mom also let her get gum stuck in her hair last month. You want that to be you?
No. Then trust me on this. Lena sat down across from her. How was school? Boring.
We had a substitute and she made us do worksheets the whole time. Sophieie took a bite of apple. Can I ask you something? Sure. Are you going to leave?
The question hit harder than it should have. What makes you think I'm leaving? Because everyone does. We had four nannies last year. They all said they'd stay and then they didn't.
Sophieie's voice got smaller. Did we do something wrong? Lena's chest ached. No, sweetheart. You didn't do anything wrong.
Then why do they always leave? How was she supposed to answer that? How could she explain to an eight-year-old that sometimes people left not because of anything you did, but because they had their own problems, their own lives, their own reasons that had nothing to do with you? I don't know, she said honestly. But I'm not leaving right now.
Okay. Promise. Lena shouldn't promise. shouldn't make guarantees she might not be able to keep. But Sophieie was looking at her with those hopeful eyes, and Lena couldn't bring herself to add more uncertainty to this kid's life. "I promise," she said, and hope she wasn't lying.