Tyler never expected his wife to leave. However, his life is shattered when his five-year-old daughter phones him at work, afraid and alone. Jess has left a mysterious message behind. A week later, he discovers her great secret. Now he must admit she never
wished for life. Her goal was the globe.
I never imagined becoming the guy whose wife disappeared unexpectedly.
That occurred last Tuesday, and who broke the news? Our five-year-old daughter.
A typical morning. I was busy with budget reports and meetings, eagerly anticipating Taco Tuesday, when Jess prepared the best tacos.
Then my phone rings.
Home. A peculiar shiver came over me. Jess only phoned during work hours once a major issue arose.
I replied.
Hey, Jess—
It wasn’t her voice.
It was little. Uncertain. Scared.
“Daddy?”
I froze.
“Emma? Dear, why are you calling? Mommy where?
“She left,” she whispered.
Heart fell.
“Left? What, Emma, she left?
It was her enormous suitcase. Fluff’s crimson bed. She packed clothing.
She embraced me and whispered wait.”
Cracked voice. In the background, our cat meowed.
Did she mention where she was going?
“No… I should be brave.”
Air exited my lungs.
Stay put, honey. I’m coming. Don’t let anybody in, okay? I scarcely recall getting my keys or driving off. I remember my world whirling as I drove home.
I arrived and the door creaked beneath my shaky hands.
“Jess?” Silence.
House was hollow. Too quiet. Erroneous.
Emma held her pet unicorn on the sofa in her jammies. She raced into my arms, crying.
Where’s Mommy? When will she return?
“I don’t know, baby,” I muttered. “But I’m here.”
I brought her to the kitchen. There it was.
Only one envelope on the counter.
Her usual penmanship was used for “Tyler”.
I opened.
Tyler, I cannot continue.
I’ll be gone when you read this. All will be revealed in a week.
Look after Emma. Tell her I love her.
Always.
—Jess I reread those words as if they may alter meaning. No, it didn’t. Miss Jess was gone. She left Emma too, not just me.
Calling everyone I could think of.
Her parents? “ We heard she needed time.”
Friends of her? Nobody had seen her.
Her job? She quit. Two weeks ago.”
Two weeks? This means she planned it while preparing breakfast, doing laundry, and putting Emma to bed.
My wife left while pretending everything was OK.
Emma clung to me overnight. As if I could disappear too.
“Mommy’s coming back, right?” she questioned between macaroni and cheese nibbles.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “But I’ll always find you. A promise.”
We agreed to ice cream after school when I returned from hunting.
I checked our joint bank account the following day to find Jess had withdrew almost all her funds.
Her social media? Scrubbed down.
Police were ineffective.
“She left voluntarily,” the officer stated. It’s not a crime to leave.” “She abandoned a child.”
A safe location. Maybe she’s not secure with you?
I wanted to shout.
I was lost in inquiries for a week.
Finally—day seven.
Emma and I watched cartoons while eating burgers and fries (half). She switched stations during ads.
Suddenly, she appeared.
Jess. Onstage. Mic in hand. Softly waved hair.
Smiling. Alive.
The announcer said that a lady who had given up her ambition for years is now pursuing it. Support Jess!”
Emma spilled fries.
“Mommy?”
Jess sang.
I couldn’t breathe.
She was my wife for seven years. Emma’s mom. Alongside me, she kissed skinned knees, made school lunches, and folded clothes.
But this?
It was someone else.
Her voice was soulful and fiery. It was then that I discovered something heartbreaking.
Jess was never mine completely.
When the song finished, the judge leaned in.
“What prompted your final leap?”
Jess grinned.
Because I understood I would never follow my goal if I didn’t now. Love my family.
This was necessary for me. I needed to know myself before marrying.
Someone’s mom.”
I switched off TV.
Emma raised her eyes.
“Why did Mommy leave?”
I watched the screen.
“She wanted to fly, sweetie.”
Phone buzzed when I snuggled her up later that night.
Unrecognizable number.
You saw it.
Jess.
My heart raced as I watched the television. I replied: Why didn’t you tell me?
Her reply followed minutes later.
Because you’d oppose me.
That was when I gave up.
No aid was requested. She refused compromise. Freedom was her goal.
I handed it to her.
Blocked her number. Applied for sole custody. Emma and I began creating a new life.
One without Jess.
Emma needs a selfless mother. I deserve a partner who views love as a home, not a prison.
Weeks later, Emma and I made waffles in the kitchen. The woman sat on the counter, swaying her legs.
“Daddy?” she said, watching the batter sizzle.
Mommy won’t return, right?
I froze. Then I replied kindly.
No, sweetie. She’s not.”
Miss Emma was silent. Then she muttered, “Did I do something wrong?”
I kissed her forehead.
“No. Her decision wasn’t about you. She adored you. She preferred something different.
Not your fault.”
Emma stared at me.
Still adore her?
I hesitated.
“I do. But I love you more.”
A waffle iron beeped.
“Can we put chocolate chips in them today?”
“With extra whipped cream.”
Suddenly, the kitchen felt full.
