Chapter 2: The Night He Left
The night Justin left Lucy had been like any other—chaotic, noisy, and filled with the scent of whiskey and cigarette smoke. The city was alive, pulsing with the thrum of music and laughter, but inside their tiny apartment, everything was suffocating. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
At twenty-one, Justin had left his small-town life, desperate to escape the violence and fear that had defined his childhood. He had dreamt of a life without rules, a life where he could be free to float through the world, untethered. And for a while, he believed it. The city had promised him adventure, excitement, and most importantly—freedom.
Then, he met Lucy.
She was unlike anyone he’d ever known. Calm, composed, but undeniably magnetic. She was the kind of person who made a room feel warmer just by walking into it. And somehow, in the middle of the chaos, Lucy became his anchor. The noise of the world faded when he was with her. For the first time in his life, Justin started to imagine a future—something beyond the next party, the next drink.
But when Lucy told him she was pregnant, everything shifted. The dream of endless nights and spontaneous freedom collided with a reality he wasn’t prepared for. She was going to have a baby—a son, she said, and in that moment, Justin thought he might finally break the cycle of his own broken childhood. He promised himself he would be different. He would be the father he never had.
But then the ultrasound revealed not one, but two girls.
At first, Justin smiled, hid the tightness in his chest, and told Lucy it was fine. He reassured her that they could try again. But with each passing year, as Lucy brought more girls into the world, the dream began to feel more and more distant. Twelve daughters. It wasn’t the life he had imagined. And with each new pregnancy, his resentment grew, curling in his chest like a cold knot.
By the time of their fifth pregnancy, the dream had shattered. Justin no longer saw Lucy as the woman he had fallen in love with. She had become the mother of his many children—children who, despite his initial hope, were not the sons he had longed for. The house was full of noise, chaos, and demands that drained him of the life he thought he would lead.
One night, long after the kids had gone to bed, Justin stood in the hallway of their apartment. Lucy was asleep, her soft breaths rising and falling beside him. The weight of the future pressed on him, suffocating, and he couldn’t bear it anymore. He grabbed a scrap of paper from the kitchen counter and scrawled a few words: I can’t do this anymore. He packed a bag, walked out into the night, and never looked back.
Now, as Justin sat in his apartment, the memory of that night still haunted him. The decision, the escape—had it really been about freedom, or was it simply easier to run than face the reality he had created?