She came in and all I could do was stare. She didn’t recognize me—I guess I didn’t expect her to. I wanted to say something, ask her why, but the words stuck in my throat. I watched her sign papers, talk to the attorney, and leave like it was just any other day. I stood there frozen, heart racing, wondering if she even thought about the baby she left behind.
After she left, I sat in the break room for what felt like hours, trying to process everything. Part of me felt angry, part of me felt empty… and part of me still wanted answers. But I didn’t go after her. Maybe I was scared of what she’d say—or worse, that she’d say nothing at all.
I still don’t know if I’ll ever get closure. But that day reminded me how deep some wounds go… and how sometimes, healing doesn’t come from others—it comes from choosing to move forward, even without the answers.
