“And me?” she asked, trembling. “I didn’t deserve to know? I didn’t deserve to choose with you? We were married, Michael. We were supposed to face things together.”
“I know,” Michael sobbed. “But there was no time. They gave me 24 hours. Twenty-four hours to decide if I disappeared or if we all risked death. I couldn’t risk you. I couldn’t.”
“Twenty-four hours,” Rachel repeated, turning sharply. “And you couldn’t find five minutes to tell me the truth? To let me say goodbye on purpose? To let the boys know their father didn’t abandon them?”
Ethan exploded.
“I was ten. Ten. And I cried every night thinking I did something wrong—that’s why you left. Mom took me to a therapist because I stopped eating, because I had nightmares. Do you know what it’s like growing up thinking your dad chose to leave you?”
Michael covered his face.
“I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. Every day for 17 years I’ve asked myself if I made the right choice.”