School mornings.
Forgotten homework.
Sports equipment scattered across the hallway.
Family dinners around our worn wooden kitchen table.
There had been difficult years, of course, but I’d always believed Tyler and I were building something lasting.
When our youngest child left for college, the house suddenly felt enormous.
For the first time in almost two decades, it was just the two of us.
I imagined we’d begin enjoying the freedom we’d worked so hard to reach.
Maybe we’d travel.
Take weekend trips.
Go out for dinner without worrying about babysitters or school schedules.
But instead of becoming closer, Tyler grew increasingly distant.
He began leaving before sunrise.
Coming home late.
Spending evenings answering messages on his phone.
Whenever I asked whether something was wrong, he gave the same answer.
“It’s just a busy quarter, Debra.”
At first, I believed him.
Then another month passed.
And another.
One evening, I asked whether his workload would ever return to normal.
