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

Chapter 21 — The Exit Door

Three months later the divorce was final.

Zachary looked, by then, like the ghost of himself.

“I’d like to rebuild something with Chloe someday,” he said quietly outside the courtroom.

“That isn’t up to me,” I said.

“It depends on you — on what you do consistently, for years, not what you promise for five minutes.” He lowered his eyes.

“She hates me, doesn’t she.” “No,” I said.

“Hating you would be easier.