“I called you twelve times, Nathaniel,” Margaret said. “The hospital called you seven times. Daniel called you nine times. That’s twenty-eight chances for you to answer.”
She stopped. She gathered herself.
“I know you got at least some of those calls. Because Daniel told me he talked to you. On the boat. I know you understood exactly what was happening. And I know you could’ve come home.”
Then she looked right into the camera.
“I also know about Vanessa.”
I stopped breathing.
“I’ve known for four months. And I know about the penthouse you bought her. In Palm Beach. Our accountant called me to verify a wire transfer you made while I was at my baby shower.”
Margaret looked away for a second. Like the next words took more strength than she expected.
“I didn’t confront you. Because I was exhausted. And because part of me still wanted to believe that the man I married would remember what mattered. When our children came.”
She held Benjamin a little closer to her chest.
“I thought that whatever mistakes you’d made with me, you’d choose them.”
A tear moved slowly down her cheek.
“But when I needed you beside me, you were somewhere else. Making another woman feel important.”
I wanted to say something. Even though she couldn’t possibly hear me.
For the first time in years, I had no argument. No explanation. No carefully prepared response.
“I don’t want our children growing up believing that love means waiting forever for somebody to remember them,” Margaret said. “And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering if I’m asking too much when I ask my husband to come home.”
She took a long breath.
“You’re their father, Nathaniel. And I will never pretend you’re not. They deserve to know you. I really hope you’ll become somebody they can count on.”
Her voice trembled.
“But I can’t be your wife anymore.”
She looked down at the babies one more time.
“I’ve spent too many years accepting apologies for things that never should have happened. I need to give our children a different kind of home.”
The video ended with Margaret kissing each baby on the forehead. First Benjamin. Then Abigail.
The screen went dark.
And I sat there on the nursery floor for a long, long time. Staring at it.
Sophia Rivers is an experienced News Content Editor with a sharp eye for detail and a passion for delivering accurate and engaging news stories. At TheArchivists, she specializes in curating, editing, and presenting news content that informs and resonates with a global audience.
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