PART 9 – I Stopped Waiting for an Apology and Realized That the Man Standing Before Me Was Not the Man I Had Missed

For a while, nobody moved.

Ryan looked at me as though he was waiting for something.

I wasn't sure what.

Perhaps he expected me to change my mind.

Perhaps he thought I would eventually ask him to come home.

But I had already heard enough.

I shifted the baby in my arms and checked her blanket.

The other little girl was still sleeping.

They were both so peaceful.

It seemed unfair that such a beautiful day in their little lives had become something I would remember with pain.

Ryan finally spoke.

"Claire, please listen to me."

I looked at him.

"I'm listening."

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"I never wanted you to find out like this."

That sentence stayed with me.

Not that he regretted hurting me.

Not that he wished he had been honest.

He simply hadn't wanted me to discover it.

I stared at him.

"How was I supposed to find out, Ryan?"

He looked confused.

I continued.

"Was I supposed to hear it from somebody else? Or were you planning to tell me after you got home?"

He sighed.

"That's not what I meant."

I nodded slowly.

There it was again.

He had said something careless, and now he wanted to explain what he had meant instead of accepting what he had done.

I had spent months listening to his explanations.

I didn't want another one.

The woman beside him checked her phone.

She seemed eager to leave.

Ryan noticed and turned toward her.

"Just give me a minute."

She didn't answer.

I looked at the suitcase beside her.

It was still standing near his leg.

I wondered how many times he had walked beside that suitcase before today.

How many times he had held her waist.

How many times he had looked at her and forgotten that he had a wife waiting at home.

Those questions came without warning.

I pushed them away.

I didn't need every answer that day.

Ryan turned back to me.

"We can work this out."

I almost asked him what he thought there was to work out.

But I stopped.

I didn't want to negotiate my dignity in a crowded terminal.

I didn't want to stand there while he offered promises because he had finally been caught.

I wanted some distance.

"Not here."

He nodded quickly.

"Okay. We can talk later."

I didn't agree to anything.

I simply turned my attention to the girls.

One of them made a little sound.

I lowered my face toward her.

"It's okay, sweetheart."

I wasn't sure whether I was speaking to her or myself.

Probably both.

Ryan watched me.

For a moment, he looked like the man I remembered.

The man who had touched my stomach before leaving.

The man who had spoken to our unborn daughters.

That memory hurt.

Because I still remembered loving him.

But love wasn't going to make what I had seen disappear.

And it wasn't going to turn his excuses into an apology.

I finally looked up.

"I need to take the girls somewhere quiet."

Ryan nodded.

"Let me help you."

I hesitated.

Then I answered.

"I can manage."

He looked disappointed.

I didn't explain further.

I had managed for months.

I had managed the pregnancy.

I had managed the birth.

I had managed the sleepless nights and the endless feeding schedules.

I had managed without him.

I could manage this moment, too.

What I couldn't do was pretend I wasn't hurt.

I turned away from him.

For the first time that day, I stopped looking back to see whether he was following.

Click here to continue reading: PART 10: The Journey I Had Planned as a Happy Family Reunion Became the First Time I Had to Put Myself and My Daughters First