My Daughter Took My Hand After School and Said, “Mom, Divorce Dad — He Doesn’t Love Us.” That Night, Over One Chicken Leg, I Finally Listened

“And you didn’t make breakfast either?”

I went on calmly combing Chloe’s hair.

“Charlotte, enough.” He pulled out his phone, impatient.

“Are you still sulking about last night?

Look.” He turned the screen to me.

He had added me back to the family chat.

“There.

Happy?