Libby switched on the kettle. She really needed a cup of coffee after tossing and turning most of the night.
“Mummy!” Chloe called. “There’s a letter for you.”
“You know you’re not supposed to unlock the front door. Not even to go to the letterbox,” Libby scolded.
“I didn’t. I found it on the floor.” Chloe held out the envelope. “Open it. It says’Libby’. That’s your not-mummy name.”
Libby hesitated, recognising Paul’s handwriting on the front of the envelope. Memories of their fight were still raw. But seeing her daughter’s hopeful face, she took the letter and sat at the kitchen table.
As Libby carefully read through Paul’s heartfelt letter, her eyes welled up with tears. Each sincere word and vulnerable admission touched her deeply, stirring emotions she believed had faded. Memo
