Months later, Nolan asked if I hated him.
We were sitting on a park bench while Elodie slept in her stroller.
“No,” I said. “But I don’t trust you with my life anymore.”
He nodded, ashamed but accepting.
That was the closest thing to peace we could give each other. The man who locked me out became my daughter’s father, but not my home. The man from my past left me a fortune, but not a chain. And the child I carried into the rain became the reason I built doors that opened for others.
