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I can’t explain properly.
But our apartment feels lighter now.
Warmer.
Safe.
Lorraine hasn’t shown up again since court.
Once a month, a child support check arrives with nothing but her signature at the bottom.
No apology.
No letter.
No love.
And honestly?
That’s fine.
Because somewhere along the way, I stopped needing her to become the mother we deserved.
The continue reading …
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