Chapter 1

My husband treats me as if I do not exist unless he needs someone to blame.

My son has learned to follow his lead and sees my boundaries as hostility.

I work alone, parent alone, and fight alone.

When I discover Dan drinking with other women while claiming he is the victim, I understand the dynamic fully.

This marriage no longer protects me or my child.

It only drains me.

Filing for divorce becomes the first decision I make for myself in years.

Sunday nights are the hardest.

Tyler is dragging his feet, crying over homework that’s due tomorrow, while Dan is lost in his own world, gaming with his headphones on, utterly indifferent.

No one wants anything to do with me.

Tyler is glaring at me, teary-eyed from my scolding; Dan is pretending not to notice, clearly annoyed by my presence.

I’m left standing by the table, clearing up their plates, whispering to myself that it’s all my own fault.

But my heart aches.

Late at night, Dan slips away to the study, Tyler falls asleep, tear stains on his cheeks, and I find myself in the bathroom, looking at my own weary reflection.

This is the third month of Dan’s silent treatment. Three long months—I can hardly remember why we’re fighting.

Under the same roof, he hasn’t said a word to me. I refuse to give in; I’m convinced he’s at fault. But sleeplessness nags at me.

I walk to Tyler’s room to tidy up his backpack.

And there, on his desk, I see the new journal I got him. Under “Rewards,” written in that innocent, clumsy handwriting, I see:

“I wish Mom would just disappear.”