I simply said no and closed the door, because my children deserved a home that wasn’t built on humiliation, and I deserved a life that didn’t depend on someone else’s regret. In the weeks that followed, I focused on small healing:

cookies on a Tuesday, a pillow fort in the living room, cartoons and popcorn and quiet reassurance at bedtime. When Emma asked if we would be okay, I told her the truth—yes, we would. Not because everything was easy, but because we still had what mattered most: each other, our dignity, and the courage to begin again.