Whitefish River The white wind calls

She nodded along as he spoke. He was a scout, and she knew he liked exploring. She had honestly been so busy that she hadn't made a point to encourage him to take trips away from the territory. And the selfish side of her was glad to have him around—he was a reassuring constant in her life; she knew she could always count on him to be there. But there was the problem—she wasn't considering who he was and what he needed out of life. She had taken him for granted.

She had taken him for granted, and now he wanted out. He wanted to leave, just like Acheron had left, and just like the twins had left; she was the common denominator there. Maybe if she was less focused on helping others and more focused on her family, they wouldn't feel the need to find fulfillment elsewhere. She felt like she couldn't breath. Never in a million years would she have guessed that Emrik didn't want to be with her anymore. Their relationship was the one thing she allowed herself to count on being there the rest of their lives. And how would she explain it to the children. Obviously he would visit them, but how would she tell them he didn't want to be here anymore—or well, he didn't want to be with her anymore. 

He felt stuck, trapped, like something was missing. He wasn't happy with their lives or their routines—those things brought her more happiness than she could have ever imagined. She had already stopped walking, frozen in disbelief and regret. She had driven him away just like she had driven her children away. Tears pooled in her eyes when she finally brought herself to look at him. I'm sorry, she murmured. I don't want you to be unhappy. She swallowed. I'll try to think of something to tell the kids, a tear slid down her cheek—their poor children. You can visit them anytime you'd like. Just because—her words fell away as she struggled to say it out loud. —just because we aren't together anymore, doesn't mean you can't come here and spend time with them.