When Lucas left me and our daughter for a “party girl” who made him feel alive, I never expected to see him again. But two years later, he walked into my café, smirking, and I knew exactly how much he’d lost.
We had a good life—seven years of marriage, a home, and our daughter, Judy—until one night he came home late, complaining that I’d become “boring” and that he felt trapped. He wanted a new life, and soon after, I found out about his affair with a woman named Madison.
He left, abandoning us, even though becoming parents had been his idea. Over the next months, I focused on moving forward, getting a job, and eventually opening my own café. I didn’t need him.
Then, two years later, Lucas showed up at my café, looking tired and regretful. He admitted things hadn’t worked out with Madison and wanted to reconnect. I wasn’t interested. I had moved on, and someone else was now the father figure to Judy.
“See that man with my daughter?” I said, pointing to Daniel. “That’s everything you chose not to be.”
Lucas tried to apologize, but I wasn’t interested in excuses. I was no longer the person he’d left behind. He had no comeback, and when I turned back, he was gone.
Lucas was a chapter of my past, and I was finally at peace. If he wanted to be part of Judy’s life, he could make the effort—but I didn’t think he would.
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