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

“Don’t worry, Charlotte.

Only until Tristan is better.”

“Mom should just stay forever,” Tristan said from the couch, grinning.

Zachary did not correct him.

He turned to me instead.

“Get the guest room ready for her.

And make some fresh beef broth for Tristan — no onions in it, she doesn’t care for onions.”

I almost laughed, because the absurdity of it was so perfect it was nearly art.