I said, my voice steady. “There was no fortune teller, Jack. Your mother made it all up. She lied to you because she was afraid of losing you.”

There was a long silence. Then, he spoke. “Emily, I don’t believe that. My mother wouldn’t make up something so serious.”

I felt my heart sink. “Jack, please, this is your family. How can you just abandon them over something like this?”

He didn’t answer, and finally, I heard him sigh. “I’m sorry, Emily. I can’t do this.”

The line went dead. I stared at the phone, realizing he’d made his choice.

In the weeks that followed, I did my best to adapt to life as a single mother. One day, Jack’s mother knocked at my door.

Tears filled her eyes as she said. “I’m so sorry, Emily. I thought he’d forget about me if he had you and the girls. I never thought he’d actually leave.”

I watched her for a moment. “I have nothing else to say to you.”

She left, and I closed the door, feeling a strange mix of relief and sadness.

One year later, Jack showed up at my door. He pleaded, saying he’d finally realized his mistake and wanted to come back.

I looked him straight in the eyes and shook my head. “I already have a family, Jack.  I don’t need you now.”

As I closed the door, I felt a weight lift. After all, it wasn’t me or our daughters who ruined his life. He did it himself.