“I’ll be home before eleven,” my adult daughter said before walking out the door in her favorite pair of jeans. They hugged her curves in all the right places.
It’s been months since her divorce finalized. I’m happy for her getting herself back out there. It’s now past midnight, and I’d be lying if worry was far from me.
I grab my phone to call, but since we’re working on our relationship, I put it back down. I trust her—she needs to know that.
I quell my anxiety, turn on Lifetime, and let her enjoy her night out.
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