I think I have been dumped, along with the girls.
It seems a reasonable assumption.
My wife has left the bedroom, stopped talking to me, and goes out by herself without telling any of us where she is going. On some occasions, she has gone to dinner, but I don’t know with whom she dined. (One was a seafood restaurant, so I was glad to be excluded — blecch — seafood doesn’t agree with me).
When I say “left the bedroom,” she considered moving to an apartment nearby, but I pointed out that our house has a large basement bedroom, including a full built-in bathroom and walk-in clost. Taking over some of the basement might be enough privacy for now, has no cost implications, and still allows flexibility for any future decisions.
So, she took me up on it and moved in there a few days later. Ouch.
It was heartbreaking to have to help with that. Everything I carried downstairs from the master bedroom reminded me of what I was losing. Even things being carried downstairs seemed to defy gravity and get heavier with each step and each return trip. Every night is emptier late at night, when I wait for sleep to come.
She still interacts with the kids in the mornings and sends them off to school. But this is primarily because it gives her a chance to be at the office very early in the morning and get finished early (and go God knows where).
The absences raise questions. I’m not dumb; I’ve thought of that…