I wanted Travis to choose her.
After nine years together, I wanted him to recognize that he already belonged in that place.
So I remained silent.
Looking back, I don’t know whether that was entirely fair. Perhaps I should have spoken sooner.
But at the time, I wanted my husband to understand something without having it explained to him.
To understand why, you need to know about Kaylee’s biological father.
His name was Ryan.
We married when I was twenty-two, young enough to believe that love alone could solve almost anything.
When Kaylee turned four, Ryan accepted a job in the North Dakota oil fields. The salary was excellent, but the distance gradually changed everything.
At first, he came home every few weeks.
Then every few months.
Eventually, he stopped coming home altogether.
His phone calls became less frequent. Birthdays passed without messages. Promises were repeatedly forgotten.
The last time Kaylee heard from him was on her eleventh birthday.
