Even after taxes, it was more money than I had ever imagined having. Enough to erase every financial worry. Enough to change our future entirely.
I laughed out loud, then cried. I dropped to my knees and wrapped Noah in the tightest hug, making him squeal in surprise.
“Mommy, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said, kissing his hair. “Everything’s right.”
My thoughts didn’t jump to luxury or escape. They went straight to my husband, Mark. I wanted to tell him in person. I wanted to see his face when I said the words out loud. I imagined the relief, the joy, the way this news might bring us closer again.
Mark and I had been married for seven years. Lately, things had felt strained. He worked long hours at a tech consulting firm downtown. He was distracted. Always tired. Always busy. I told myself it was just a phase.
This, I thought, would change everything.
I buckled Noah into his car seat, still buzzing with adrenaline. The drive downtown felt unreal, like I was floating rather than steering. I rehearsed the moment in my head again and again. Maybe I’d tease him first. Maybe I’d hand him the ticket and let him figure it out.
We’d laugh.
We’d celebrate.
We’d be okay again.
ADVERTISEMENT
