The Home We Built Afterward
Three months later, Sophie and June started school. Our house sat on a quiet tree-lined road outside London with the garden June had requested. She planted lavender near the back fence. Sophie joined a swimming club. I returned to work as a board adviser for the European side of Hartwell Holdings.
My days became full again, but not in the frantic way they had been during my marriage.
One Sunday morning, we ate pancakes in the kitchen while rain tapped against the windows. June looked at me and asked, “Mom, are you happier here?”
I considered the question. “Yes.”
Sophie smiled. “I knew it.”
“How?”
She shrugged. “You sing when you make breakfast now.”
I had not noticed. That tiny observation almost brought tears to my eyes. Not because I was sad. Because sometimes children notice our healing before we do.
