"It will be alright", I said. "Daddy and I will be good friends. It's a big house, and we can all live here and do the things we enjoy. Probably the only difference you'll notice is that Daddy and I won't be fighting so much now".
"It won't be alright though, will it", she mumbled flatly, eyes downcast. I felt awful. "We'll be a fake family. It will be like actors who look just like us, are in our house, pretending to be a family".
I don't know whether it would be better or worse for her to know it was the time before that was fake. That now for the first time in a long time we are having honest conversations, my feelings and views are being taken into account, we are discussing not arguing.
I feel so much better now, and everyone else feels so much worse. So many ways to fail, aren't there?
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