My name is Claire. I’m 40, and for most of my adult life, I believed I had something solid. It wasn’t flashy or grand. It was a quiet, steady kind of love.
Marcus and I had been married for 13 years. We built a life that looked good from the outside: a cozy house in the suburbs, two wonderful kids, and a calendar full of school pickups, soccer practices, birthday parties, and grocery runs. I used to believe those small, ordinary things were the glue that held us together.
Marcus works as a project manager at a tech firm downtown. I work part-time as a school librarian, which means I’m home more often, and for a long time, that felt like a blessing. I got to be there for every scraped knee, every book fair, every bedtime story.
A mother and daughter reading a book at night | Source: Pexels
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