January
Kai didn't come back that night. Or the next day.
He texted around noon: "I think we need space. I'm going to stay with Mom for a while. I'll come get clothes when you're at class."
Like a coward. Coming when I wouldn't be there.
I responded: "Fine."
That was it. Three years, and our communication had reduced to "Fine."
Maya was a wreck. She went to school but came home silent, locked herself in her room, barely ate. I tried to talk to her, but she'd built walls I couldn't penetrate.
On the third day, she finally exploded.
"This is your fault!" she screamed at me over dinner or what was supposed to be dinner. Neither of us was eating.
"Excuse me?"
"You kicked him out! He wanted to talk and you wouldn't let him! You just threw him away!"
"Maya, that's not what happened"
"That's exactly what happened! He made one mistake and you ended everything! You're supposed to fight for people you love!"
"He lied to me. He's been having an emotional affair"
