Then I closed the laptop.
10. The Black Balloons
Sometimes I think about those black balloons.
How they surged upward in a perfect, undeniable wave.
How the word CHEATER shimmered in the sunlight.
How no one could pretend they hadn’t seen it.
I don’t think about it with vengeance.
I think about it with clarity.
That moment wasn’t about revenge.
It was about refusing to let betrayal stay hidden.
It was about choosing truth over comfort.
It was about showing my child—before they were even born—that love without respect is not love at all.
In six months, I’ll hold my baby.
I don’t know exactly what motherhood will look like yet.
I don’t know how co-parenting with Blake will unfold.
