I Raised My Twin Daughters in Wheelchairs Alone After Their Mother Left Us — 12 Years Later, They Sat Me Down and Said, “Dad, Please Don’t Be Mad. We’ve Been Hiding Something From You”

“Emmett.”

“Colette.”

The girls moved beside her bed.

She smiled at them, and something in my chest tightened.

They had her eyes.

I had forgotten that.

“Thank you for coming,” she said.

“I came for them.”

“I know.”

I stayed near the door.

Colette looked down at her hands.

“I owe you an apology.”

I almost laughed.

“One?”

Her face tightened.

“More than one.”

Brielle gave me a warning look, and I decided I didn’t have the energy for a fight.

Colette took a slow breath.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But there’s something I should have told you years ago.”

I waited.

“After the girls were born, I wasn’t okay.”I said nothing.

“I was depressed. I was angry almost all the time, and then I hated myself for being angry.”

My jaw tightened.

“A lot of parents struggle.”

“I know.”

“A lot of parents don’t leave.”