My Daughter Was 15 When She Finally Looked Me in the Eye and Whispered, “I Don’t Tell Dad When I’m Hurting Anymore. He Says I Only Do It for Attention.” The Next Afternoon, I Checked Her Out of School and Drove Her to the Hospital Without a Word to My Husband. Halfway Through the Scan, the Technician Went Completely Quiet.

She talked about her teammates, her homework, a teacher who gave way too much reading, and a school dance she was thinking about going to.

Our world was starting to grow bigger again.

On the drive home, Paige asked if I regretted leaving Gregory.

“I regret that things got so painful,” I told her.

“I regret some of the choices I made before we got help.

I don’t regret taking your health seriously, and I don’t regret making a home where you can say what you feel.”

She nodded and watched the traffic lights change color.