“Daddy,” she whimpered. “Where’s Mommy? When is she coming back?”
Kevin ran his hand through her messy hair, feeling his throat tighten.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “But I’m here now, okay?”
As he carried her into the kitchen, he noticed something—an envelope on the counter, with his name written on it.
Kevin’s hands were shaking as he opened it.
Kevin,
I can’t live like this anymore. By the time you read this, I’ll be gone. But you’ll find out what happened in a week. Take care of Alice. Tell her I love her. I’ll always love her.
– Laurel
Kevin had to read it three times before the words sank in. She wasn’t just leaving him. She was leaving them.
She had planned this. All the small moments—breakfast with Alice, kissing him goodnight, dinner and movie nights—she’d been planning to leave them all along.
The next day, he found out more. Her bank account? Nearly empty. Her social media? Wiped clean. Her coworkers? “Laurel quit two weeks ago.”
Two weeks? She’d been planning this, lying to him, hiding the truth.
At the police station, they told him there was nothing they could do. “She’s an adult,” they said, “She can leave whenever she wants.”
But this wasn’t just leaving. This was abandoning a child.
Days passed in a fog. And then, on the seventh day, everything changed.
Kevin and Alice were watching TV, eating takeout, when Alice started flicking through the channels. That’s when she froze.
On the screen was Laurel. Laurel—his wife, the mother of his child. She was standing on stage, microphone in hand, singing. And not just singing—performing.
The announcer’s voice boomed, “Next up, we have a woman who gave up on her dreams for years. But tonight, she’s taking her shot. Give it up for Laurel!”
The audience erupted in applause.
Kevin couldn’t breathe. He stared, frozen, as his wife sang her heart out.
Her voice was raw, powerful, alive.
And then, a judge asked, “Laurel, why now?”
She smiled. “Because I realized if I didn’t chase my dreams now, I never would. It’s one thing to be a wife and mom. But it’s another thing to watch your dreams slip away. I couldn’t do that anymore.”
Kevin turned off the TV, feeling like the room was closing in on him.
