My son stated, «We can’t keep you here, you need to leave.» So I departed…

I just want you to know I’m trying. I named her Emily Linda Carter. I read it twice, then folded it and placed it in the same drawer where I kept the deed, now void.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t smile. I just let the words sit.

Later that evening, I took a walk to the beach. I stood barefoot in the sand and listened to the waves for over an hour. I thought about the girl named after me, about the man who used to be my son, about the boy who once brought me flowers from the neighbor’s yard and cried when I called them stolen.

He was gone. But somewhere out there, maybe, someone better was being born from what he ruined. And that, I decided, wasn’t my burden anymore.

I turned and walked home. The lights in the condo glowed soft and golden. I curled up on the couch with a blanket and a book.

No drama, no closure e-mails, no family feuds to navigate. Just the quiet sound of someone choosing peace over permission. My phone buzzed once more before I turned it off for the night.

Unknown number, no message. I let it fade. Then I whispered the same five words I’d carried since the day they pushed me out.

No space here either. Goodbye. To this day, I don’t know where Josh and Megan ended up.

Maybe they figured things out, maybe they didn’t. I just know I’m happy now, and that’s enough. That’s it for today.