Part Two: Cody - The Torn Husband

Cody

Before I even reach the front of my patio, a knot drops into my stomach. The air feels wrong.

My gaze locks onto the door handle. A small, neatly woven basket hangs from it. I freeze on the welcome mat, the hair on my arms standing up. Regardless, I have to see what is inside, so I force my hands forward.

I pull out a folded piece of paper. My fingers tremble slightly as I smooth out the creases.

The night she called, I listened. Cheers to a better life with Toria. Don’t look for me. Your kids are still yours; you can see them when you wish.

That is all. No signature. No further explanation.

I stare at the ink until the letters blur. With a numb hand, I reach for the keypad and punch in our security code. The lock clicks open, the sound echoing loudly in the stillness.

I push the door open and step inside. The warmth is missing. There is no scent of food drifting from the kitchen. I wait, but the silence remains unbroken. No little feet come racing down the hallway. No children launch themselves forward to wrap around my legs.

The realization washes over me, cold and slow.

She left. And it is my fault.