No explanation. No responsibility. He simply disappeared—from our life, just like he had already disappeared from our marriage.
But Elena didn’t know.
She kept asking about him. Smiling when she said his name. Wondering when he would visit.
And I kept taking care of her.
Even though she had never fully accepted me. Even though she had criticized me for years.
Because someone had to.
A week later, I called him.
“I’m bringing your mother to you,” I said calmly. “It’s your turn now.”
He went silent.
Then he hung up.
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