Ben lowered his head.
“Because Claire found out about her.”
I froze.
“How?”
“She saw the pregnancy photos Diane posted online. Yesterday, she sent me another message.”
He handed me his phone.
The message contained only three sentences.
“Congratulations on your new daughter, Dad. I hope you love her enough to stay. I wouldn’t wish what I went through on any child.”
I began crying.
An eighteen-year-old girl whom I had never met had shown more kindness toward my newborn than her own father had.
I handed the phone back.
“Leave.”
Ben looked horrified.
“Please, Liza. I want to fix this.”
“You can’t fix eighteen years with one apology.”
Diane stepped forward.
“Think about your daughter! She needs her father!”
I looked straight at her.
“So did Claire.”
For once, Diane had nothing to say.
I closed the door.
Over the following weeks, I began arranging our separation.
