9. She Finally Let Me Go Ryan I hear my daughter’s question, but I don’t know how to respond. It’s clear that Michelle has left, and I hesitate to tell her the truth. However, in the end, I decided that, if necessary, being honest is the best choice. “Candace, sweetheart, why do you say that?” She pulls a small wrapped package from behind her back and shows it to me. “What’s that? A gift?” She nods in silence and hands me the note attached to the gift. My hands tremble as I unfold the note and read the words written in Michelle’s handwriting: “Princess, I hope you have succeeded, because I know you work hard to be the best. Always strive and never give up. See you soon. Mom.” Candace looks at me with a frown and she whispers. “Is Mom upset?” I waited a moment before responding. I think about my last conversation with Michelle, the unanswered calls, the silences that started to become longer than usual. “I think so. When we were traveling, your mother called me and I didn’t answer. Maybe that made her upset.” Candace makes a puzzled face, as if she’s processing something important. “Dad, she also sent me a message. I hadn’t seen it because it was marked as read. Did you read it?” I shake my head no, though she knows I do not check her phone. “No, sweetie, it wasn’t me.” She remains silent. The only other person with us was Blake, but she never took our things without permission. Or so I want to think. “It must have been Aunt Blake. Then maybe Mom is upset with me. She’s probably at her grandparents’ house. Can you take me there?” I didn’t respond immediately. It’s the first time Michelle has done something like this. Other times, when we returned from a trip, she greeted us with joy. But this time is different. If she’s upset, I don’t want to face her in front of her parents. “I’ll try calling her again.” But I saw Candace step ahead and take out her phone to write something. “I sent her a message. Maybe she’ll read it.” But her expression quickly changes to confusion. “Mmm… they’re not going through it. It’s like her phone is out of battery. Or as if she blocked me.” “It could be the first. I don’t think she blocked you. You’re her daughter, the person she loves most.” She doesn’t seem convinced. “So, are we going to Grandma and Grandpa’s?” I shook my head right away. “No, we’ll go tomorrow. It’s already nighttime, and they’re probably asleep. I promise that when you get out of school, we’ll go there.” She’s not completely satisfied, but she heads back to her room. ***** I tuck her into bed, but I can see on her little face that she knows something’s wrong. I take out my phone and call again. Same result. Even though I never thought I’d admit it, I feel her absence. I take a shower before bed and suddenly the house feels empty, as if Michelle had never been here. If it weren’t for the photograph on the nightstand, I’d think we had never shared this home. But then, one detail hit me hard: she took everything except the photo. That small gesture feels like a cold splash of water. Is it a sign? It’s as if she’s erased me from her life. I got ready for bed, and just as I closed my eyes, a message came in. I grabbed the phone immediately, hoping to see Michelle’s name on the screen. But it’s not her. It’s Blake. “We just parted, and I already miss you.” This time I didn’t smile when I read it. She’s getting more insistent about my divorce. I can feel her frustration at not being able to get me to separate. But the truth is, I have no excuse to give Michelle. She’s been an exceptional wife and I’ve never had complaints. If Blake hadn’t come back into my life, I wouldn’t even be considering a separation. I turn in my bed and look at the empty side where Michelle has slept for so many years. When we got married, I thought we wouldn’t even last a year together. I married because a baby was on the way, but the day the nurse placed Candace in my arms, I knew I had made the best decision of my life. Michelle, despite her youth, was always dedicated to our family. She studied, worked, and still managed to be present for us. I was happy by her side for seven years. But then, Blake returned and made me rethink everything. Flashback My daughter had been insisting for weeks that she wanted to learn to skate, just like her best friend at school. Her friend’s parents gave us the information about where she took lessons, so one afternoon after school, I decided to take her. Upon arrival, I felt my heart stop. There, in the middle of the rink, spinning with the same grace as years ago, was she was: Blake Sullivan. She skated with the elegance that had always characterized her, the same that had captivated me the first time I saw her. My mind brought me back to that moment. Back then, I was nineteen, and she was just fifteen, although her poise and confidence made her appear older. I approached her with the intention of meeting her, intrigued by her presence. When I introduced myself, she gave me a flirtatious smile, and at that moment, I knew I was lost: I had fallen in love. Her mother, a single and understanding woman, didn’t object to our relationship, and so our story began. But it was always a complicated relationship. Blake had a passion that consumed everything: skating. And I, although I loved her, was never her priority. For years, I tried to fit into her world, but I always knew I could never compete with the thrill of the ice rink and the adrenaline of the championships. The memories of that time crowded my mind as I watched her on the rink. Her movements were as hypnotic as they always were, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she had ever thought of me over the years. Our relationship had been intense and full of unforgettable moments, but life took us down different paths. I shook my head, trying to clear my mind. It wasn’t the time to relive the past. I turned to my daughter, who was looking at me expectantly, excited about the possibility of starting her skating lessons. I smiled and took her hand to lead her to **. However, I couldn’t help but cast one last glance at the rink, wondering if Blake had seen me too. “And this is all the information, Mr. Allen.” The school director watched me anxiously, eager for me to sign right then. “We have the best instructors and trainers, and as you can see…” She proudly pointed to a wall adorned with photographs and trophies, “Some of them are nationally selected. Like instructor Sullivan. She has just joined our select group of teachers and is in charge of children your daughter’s age.” My little one, who had just turned seven, was an extremely intelligent and perceptive child. “I saw the teacher at the rink! She’s very pretty and skates very well,” she exclaimed enthusiastically. We both laughed at her excitement. “Well, if your dad agrees with you to train with us, the pretty teacher will be your instructor.” I swallowed hard when I heard that. The truth was, I didn’t know if I was ready to face Blake again. Our separation had been painful. She had left for the Olympics after being selected nationally. Just when I had gathered the courage to tell her that I would wait for her, that maybe when she returned we could get married, she confessed that she no longer felt the same about me. She had fallen in love with her coach, a man fifteen years older than her, with whom she spent most of her time. I was devastated when she told me. Although I wanted to beg her to reconsider, her mother convinced me that if I really loved her, I had to let her go. After she left, I sank into alcohol and excesses. Until I met Michelle again one night. She joined me for drinks and we had a good chat. When I asked her to dance, our bodies gradually drew closer, and a kiss was inevitable. One kiss led to another, and when I asked if she wanted to go somewhere else, she didn’t refuse. She gave me her first time, and I tried to be kind and tender in response. Our relationship quickly evolved, and after the news of the pregnancy, we got married. During the first years, I tried to be a good husband. Michelle hoped I would love her with the same passion I once had for Blake, but something inside me always held me back. The question of what my life would have been if Blake had been my wife always lingered in my mind. We left the office with the information in hand and stopped to watch the people training at that moment. Now, standing on that rink, with my daughter excited about her first class and the past knocking at the door of my mind, I wonder if Blake ever questioned what would have happened if she hadn’t let me go. “Ryan? I thought I was dreaming.” I turn to see her, and there she stands. As if time hadn’t passed. As if eight years hadn’t felt like an eternity. She was as beautiful, confident, and passionate as ever. “Blake. What a surprise,” I say to her, and she smiles while looking at me with longing. Suddenly, she looks down and sees her. Her smile fades a bit, but she quickly recovers. “Who is this lovely young lady?” She asks, and my daughter, smiling, introduces herself. “I’m Candace Allen, his daughter.” Blake looks up at me, and I just nod. “That’s right. She’s my daughter. Mine and Michelle’s.” I see her face turn pale. Michelle always seemed to be her nemesis. From the beginning, she hated her, I know. “Well, nice to meet you, young lady. You’re very beautiful.” I see them laugh, as if a bond of friendship were forming between them. “Don’t tell me you’re going to skate?” My daughter nods, and Blake turns her gaze back to me. “That’s the plan.” “Well, you’ve come to the right place. I’m sure I’ll make you the best skater in the country.” Candace looked happy to hear her words, and then I knew. Things were going to change in my life. Her eyes watch me, waiting for a response, and I just nodded. From that day on, she reentered my life with the force of a hurricane, knocking everything down in its path. End of flashback Thinking about all that, I close my eyes and let the memories wash over me. Despite having learned how to live a double life, I can’t deny that when I was with Michelle, the guilt gnawed at me. My daughter, Candace, noticed it immediately. She realized that when I was with Candace’s instructor, something in me changed. I smiled more often. Our time together felt lighter, more fun, as if a part of me that had been asleep awaked only in her presence. I was surprised that Candace accepted my relationship with Blake without questioning it. After all, her mother had always been loving and attentive to her. However, for my daughter, I had always been her priority for as long as she could remember. She never said anything at home, not even when the competitions took us far away and Blake stayed with us. I used to rent a suite during the tournaments. While Blake slept in a separate room, Candace and I shared the other. But, in the middle of the night, I would slip away with my lover, relishing those stolen moments filled with secrecy and passion. In the city, our meetings were more calculated. I met Blake at her apartment, always at strategic times to avoid suspicion. I never left loose ends. I always took care to cover my tracks. Even my relationship with Michelle changed. The distance between us became palpable. The moments of intimacy drastically diminished. I claimed tiredness, justified my absences with empty excuses. But the truth was that the guilt didn’t allow me to be the man I had been before Blake appeared in our lives. Lately, Blake has been insisting that I get a divorce as soon as possible. She doesn’t want to continue being the shadow of a marriage that, for her, no longer exists. Perhaps this recent argument with Michelle will be the trigger that makes me make the definitive decision. Maybe the time to face the truth has come. ***** If I said I got any rest, I’d be lying. The truth is, I didn’t. I woke up several times during the night, and by inertia, I looked at the other side of the bed. At times, I clung to the hope that it was all just a dream, that when I woke up, Michelle would be there, as always. But the reality was different. I can’t deny that I miss her. It’s been many years, sharing the same routine, the same spaces, the same life. Michelle was always the first to get up. She made sure everything was ready so that I only had to get ready, have breakfast, and take Candace to school. Now, I have to remind myself that she’s no longer here. I look at the clock. It’s better to get up. I head to the closet and pick out my clothes. Everything is still in place, perfectly arranged, as if she were still living here. I don’t take long to get dressed and head to Candace’s room. She’s still asleep, wrapped in her favorite blanket. “Candace, honey, wake up,” I said softly, but she didn’t move. I leaned in and called her again. “Candace, it will be late.” “Mmm, just a little longer, mommy,” she murmurs, barely conscious. Her response makes my throat tighten. I take a deep breath before speaking. “Sweetheart, I’m not Mom. I’m Dad, and we’re going to be late.” She slowly opens her eyes and gradually sits up in bed. “I forgot,” she whispers. I thought I dreamed that Mom wasn’t here. I remain silent, wondering what will happen when the divorce is final, and she has to go live with Michelle. The law always favors the mother, but is that really the best for Candace? She’s too used to me. “Are we going to pick her up at the grandparents’ house?” she suddenly asks. The question leaves me speechless. After a moment, I nodded my head. “When I pick you up, we’ll go there,” I replied. Her face lights up with a small smile. I know it’s not because of the visit, but because, in her childish mind, there’s still the possibility that her mother will return. Though I still remember what she said to Blake at the competitions. She said she wished Blake was her mother, but I know she didn’t realize the weight of her words. Michelle is her mother and always will be. It’s just the fascination she has for her instructor. Candace gets ready and leaves with her backpack on her shoulder. In the kitchen, the smell of coffee and freshly cooked food makes me smile, but seeing Ruth busy at the stove, reality hits me. Michelle isn’t here. “Good morning,” I greet. Ruth turns around, her expression serious. “Good morning, sir. Breakfast is ready.” I sit in my usual spot. Candace does the same, silently. “Did the lady… say anything?” I ask, trying to sound casual. Ruth shakes her head. “No, sir. She didn’t say anything.” Her tone is neutral, as if Michelle had asked her not to comment. I decided not to press. We finish breakfast in silence and when we’re done, we get ready to leave. “We’ll be back in the afternoon,” I said as I said goodbye. Before I reach the door, Ruth stops me. “Sir… what would you like me to prepare for lunch?” It’s a simple question, but it takes me by surprise. No one had ever asked me that before. Michelle always took care of the menus, our preferences, everything. “I think we’ll eat out. Don’t worry,” I reply. Candace and I got in the car. She still looks serious. As we drove through the gate, I spotted a couple of boxes stacked by the entrance. I frown and step out to check what’s inside. Inside are Michelle’s belongings: books, photos, mementos, items that once filled spaces in our home. I always told her to get rid of anything she didn’t use, but she held onto every little memory from her past. Until now. It’s like a punch to the gut, and I finally get it. This time, she truly let go. She’s left behind everything that tied her to this home, to our life together. It’s over. At last, she’s let me go.