Chapter 8 - Breaking the Cycle
Two months after the court hearing, the air was crisp and warm as autumn settled over the city.
The lock on the front door of our four-bedroom house clicked open. But this time, it was my key turning the lock. Drew had been forced to pack his belongings and move into a small rental apartment near his office, while Josie, Noah, and I returned to the place we were rebuilding into a real home.
The house no longer felt cold or narrow. The heavy, suffocating tension that Drew brought into every room was gone, replaced by light, music, and peace.
In the living room, Josie was sitting on a plush rug, playing with a set of wooden building blocks. Noah, now nearly four months old, was sitting up in a padded support pillow, kicking his little feet and letting out loud, happy gurgles as Josie built tall towers and knocked them down for his amusement.
I watched them from the kitchen doorway, holding two cups of warm apple cider.
There were no travel monitors hidden under pillows. There were no midnight shifts forced upon a child. Noah slept peacefully through the night in his crib in my room, fed and comforted by me, while Josie slept eight unbroken hours every single night in her own room, surrounded by her books and toys.
"Here you go, sweetheart," I said, setting a mug down on a coaster near Josie.
"Thanks, Sarah!" Josie smiled bright, her cheeks rosy and healthy.
Over the past two months of weekly therapy, the anxious, terrified look in her eyes had completely melted away. She was eating well, her grades at school had skyrocketed, and she no longer walked on eggshells around the house.
"Sarah?" Josie asked softly, setting down a wooden block.
"Yeah, sweetie?"
"I had my session with Dr. Claire today," she said, looking down at her hands. "We talked about Dad."
I sat down on the rug beside her, keeping my tone gentle and supportive. "How did that feel?"
"It felt okay," Josie whispered. "Dr. Claire said that what Dad did wasn't my fault. She said that fathers are supposed to protect their kids, not make them carry adult burdens."
"Dr. Claire is one hundred percent right," I said, rubbing her back gently. "Your dad made selfish choices, Josie. But none of those choices were because of you, or because you weren't good enough."
Josie looked at Noah, who reached out his tiny hand and grabbed her index finger, pulling it toward his mouth with a gummy grin.
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"I love being Noah's big sister," Josie said, a genuine, beautiful smile lighting up her face. "I just like being his sister during the day."
I pulled her into a warm hug, pressing a kiss into her hair. "And that is the only job you will ever have in this house, Josie. Being his big sister during the day, and being a happy kid every single second in between."
