The kids didnt know until three months later. They had thought daddy was on a buisness trip. They believed it, because they were only 4 year olds. I tried to make myself believe the lie. i tried to think, any day now, the boss will tell him he can go home. But of course, i had watched him hail a taxi, throw his belongings in the trunk, and drive off into the darkness. i had saw the way he packed his bags. So silently, so swiftly, so rapidly. Without giving me a gaze.Without flashing me a quick look. Without mubleing a word. i had cried the whole time. begged, and begged, and begged. But all i got, was nothing. Wich was obviously somthing to him.He hadnt packed any of my money, my furniture, my personal belonings. He had just packed whatever he knew was rightfully his. There was a few things we couldve easily argued about. Like the couch, wich we ahd both paid for. The computer, wich he had came with, but i had paid to repair it. The dog, wich was his, but liked me more. I guess he didnt want to start fights, because he knew it would wake the kids. I knew he didnt want to be the one to explain to two four year olds, why daddy was paking every piece of clothing he had, instead of just a few shirts and pants he usually packs to go on buisnes trips. The next morning, i woke up, and right away went to swat him on the head. Thats what i do every morning, lightly of course. I do it to wake him up. He always said he was a deep sleeper, do whatever it takes to wake me up. So thats what i started doing.When my hand swatted the pillow instead, all the emotions, memories, and heartbreak came back from the night before.