The biggest change came a week later.

Sean showed up to pick up the kids and mentioned extending their visit.

“Thought I’d keep them a bit longer this time,” he said casually. “A couple of weeks.”

“That’s not what we agreed on.”

“They’re excited. It’ll be fine.”

I shook my head. “What about school?”

“They can miss a little.”

“Where will they be staying?”

“With me.”

“Who else will be there?”

“Cat—”

“And why did you tell them before talking to me?” I added.

That stopped him.

For the first time, he didn’t have an easy answer.

He looked at me differently—like he didn’t recognize me anymore.

“Forget it,” he said finally. “We’ll stick to the usual schedule.”

He backed down.

Just like that.

That night, Peter sat across from me at the kitchen table.

“You’re doing it. Standing your ground.”

I sighed. “I should’ve done it sooner.”

“You’re doing it now. That’s what matters.”

He paused, then added something unexpected.

“When you’re ready, you don’t have to stay married to me. I won’t fight it. That was never the point.”

“What? Then what was?”

He met my eyes.

“Making sure you got here.”

Later that evening, I stood in the backyard while Jonathan and Lila played.

They were laughing, running in circles like nothing had ever changed.

I watched them for a long time.

And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel like I was barely holding on.

I felt steady.

Present.

Grounded.

And I realized Peter hadn’t saved me.

He had simply kept a promise.

And I had finally learned how to stand in my place.