“Scout, wait!” I shouted, grabbing my phone and keys. “Stay here, kids. I’ll be back soon.”
Emily’s wide eyes followed me. “Where are you going, Mom?”
“I just need to check something, sweetheart,” I said, my voice shaking. Then I ran after the dog.
Scout led me through the neighborhood and into the forest. I stumbled on damp leaves and branches scraped my arms, but I couldn’t stop. Hope and fear pushed me forward in equal measure.
After what felt like hours, Scout stopped in front of a small cabin nestled among the trees. Smoke curled from an outdoor fire pit, and clothes were drying on a line. Someone lived here.
I approached cautiously, my heart pounding. And then I saw him. Jason. Alive. But he was different—his hair was long and wild, a beard obscured half his face, and his movements were slow, deliberate.
Then I saw her. A woman stood beside him, her hand brushing his arm. She was as wild-looking as he was, her clothes patched and worn, her manner casual, like this was their home.
I pushed open the door. It creaked loudly, startling them both. Jason’s eyes widened in shock. “Maggie,” he said, his voice calm, too calm, like he had been preparing for this moment.
“What is this?” I demanded, my voice breaking. “Where have you been? Jason, we thought you were dead!”
He glanced at the woman, then back at me. “I… I needed to leave, Maggie. That life—it wasn’t me. Out here, I’m free. I’ve built something real.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You left us. Your kids think you’re gone. I thought you were dead.”
“I know,” he replied, his voice low. “But out here, I can breathe. I’ve found peace, Maggie.”
The woman stepped forward, her eyes cold. “Jason’s finally living his truth. Maybe you should try it.”
Anger surged within me. “You call this living? Abandoning your family, leaving us to grieve while you play house in the woods?”
Jason rubbed his neck, sighing. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re right,” I said, my voice shaking with emotion. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand how the man I married could do this. But you know what? I’m done trying.”
Without another word, I turned and walked out, Scout following closely behind. I didn’t look back. The man I loved was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.
The walk home was heavy, each step a reminder of what I had lost. But by the time I reached the house, a strange sense of clarity settled over me. Jason had made his choice. Now it was time for me to make mine.
The next morning, I called a lawyer. “I want a divorce,” I said firmly. “And I want support. My children deserve it.”
For the first time in years, I felt like I was finally taking control of my life. Jason had chosen his path, but I was choosing one of strength, stability, and love—for myself and my children.
Jason was gone, but we were still here. And we were going to be okay.