Five years after I walked away from my marriage, I found myself sitting beside my former husband on a flight from Boston to Charlotte, and the first thing I noticed was that he still wore the same confident smile he used whenever he believed he had the upper hand.<\/p>\n
His name was Nathaniel Whitcomb, and once upon a time, I had loved him enough to believe that the life we were building together would last forever.<\/p>\n
He glanced at my plain navy sweater, the paperback resting in my lap, and the modest canvas bag beneath my seat before giving me a look that suggested he had already decided how the last five years had treated me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, Emily,\u201d he said, settling into the leather seat beside mine, \u201cI never expected to find you here.\u201d<\/p>\n
I closed my book and offered him a polite smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cHello, Nathaniel. It\u2019s been a while.\u201d<\/p>\n
He laughed softly, studying my face as though searching for some visible evidence that leaving him had been a mistake.<\/p>\n
\u201cFive years, almost. You look well, considering everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
I knew that particular tone. During our marriage, Nathaniel had possessed a remarkable ability to make an insult sound like concern, and for years I had exhausted myself trying to explain why his words hurt when he insisted he had meant nothing unkind.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m doing well,\u201d I answered.<\/p>\n
\u201cStill working in design?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSomething different these days. I have my own business.\u201d<\/p>\n
He raised his eyebrows, although the expression that followed suggested he imagined a small operation run from somebody\u2019s spare bedroom.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood for you. I always hoped you\u2019d find something to keep yourself occupied.\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned toward the window, where the morning sunlight was beginning to spill across the runway, and realized with unexpected relief that his opinion no longer had the power it once held over me.<\/p>\n
What Nathaniel did not know was that I was returning home to three little girls who had changed the meaning of every difficult year I had lived through since our separation.<\/p>\n
And before that afternoon was over, he would discover something about our marriage that neither of us could simply leave behind.<\/p>\n
My name is Emily Carter, and before my divorce, I lived in a beautiful Connecticut home with marble countertops, carefully landscaped gardens, and rooms so elegantly furnished that visitors frequently told me how fortunate I was.<\/p>\n
Nathaniel managed commercial property developments for his family\u2019s investment firm, while I worked as a residential interior designer, taking small commissions and dreaming of someday establishing a studio of my own.<\/p>\n
When we married, he had encouraged my ambitions, or at least I believed he had, although his encouragement gradually became a series of suggestions about which clients I should accept, how much time I should spend working, and whether my income was really worth the inconvenience it caused our household.<\/p>\n
Eventually, he persuaded me to place my business under one of his family\u2019s companies, explaining that their accountants could handle the paperwork more efficiently.<\/p>\n
I agreed because I trusted him.<\/p>\n
That trust became one of the hardest things to recover after our marriage ended.<\/p>\n
There had been no single terrible argument that sent me packing. Instead, our relationship had gradually become a place where my wishes were treated as complications and his decisions were presented as common sense.<\/p>\n
When I mentioned wanting children, Nathaniel always found another reason to wait.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe have too much going on right now, Emily. A baby would change everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
I understood that raising a family required preparation, but after years of waiting, I began to suspect that he did not want the future I had imagined.<\/p>\n
The conversation that finally changed everything happened on a rainy evening in our kitchen.<\/p>\n
I had asked whether he could imagine us having a child within the next year, and he had looked at me with an impatience I had learned to recognize.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou need to decide what matters more to you,\u201d he said. \u201cThe life we\u2019ve built or this idea of becoming a mother.\u201d<\/p>\n
I remember staring at the silver wedding band on my finger, wondering when marriage had become a choice between being loved and becoming the person I wanted to be.<\/p>\n
A few weeks later, I contacted an attorney.<\/p>\n
Nathaniel seemed more offended than heartbroken when I told him I wanted a divorce.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll discover pretty quickly how difficult life is without everything I\u2019ve provided,\u201d he warned.<\/p>\n
I left with my personal belongings, an old laptop, and a savings account my grandmother had helped me open years earlier.<\/p>\n
What I did not know when I first began making plans to leave was that I was already expecting a baby.<\/p>\n
And what I discovered at my first appointment changed those plans more profoundly than I could have imagined.<\/p>\n
There were three.<\/p>\n
My closest friend, Rachel Donovan, lived outside Charlotte, North Carolina, and when she heard what was happening, she offered me her guest bedroom without asking how long I intended to stay.<\/p>\n
Rachel had always been practical, the kind of woman who could make a frightening situation seem manageable simply by putting a kettle on the stove and asking what needed to happen next.<\/p>\n
When I told her about the pregnancy, she held my hands across her kitchen table.<\/p>\n
\u201cThree babies?\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n
I nodded, already struggling to imagine how I would manage.<\/p>\n
She looked at me for a long moment before smiling through tears.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen I guess we\u2019d better get organized.\u201d<\/p>\n
Those early months were not easy. I worried about money, attended frequent appointments, and sometimes lay awake listening to the unfamiliar sounds of Rachel\u2019s neighborhood, wondering whether I had been foolish to believe I could begin again.<\/p>\n
I did not tell Nathaniel about the pregnancy.<\/p>\n
Part of me knew he deserved to learn the truth, but another part remembered his insistence that children would interfere with his plans, and I feared that he and his influential family would turn the pregnancy into another dispute to be managed by attorneys.<\/p>\n
I told myself I would reconsider when the babies were safely here and I had established a stable home.<\/p>\n
Then the months became years.<\/p>\n
My daughters arrived in November, each healthy and wonderfully different despite their similar features.<\/p>\n
I named them Hazel, June, and Willa.<\/p>\n
Hazel had a determined expression that made the nurses laugh. June seemed content to observe everything around her, while Willa protested whenever anyone interrupted her sleep.<\/p>\n
Rachel stood beside my hospital bed that first evening, looking at the three little bundles resting nearby.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook at what you\u2019ve got, Em,\u201d she whispered. \u201cYou thought you were leaving with nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at my daughters and understood that whatever difficulties waited ahead, my life had already become richer than the one I had left.<\/p>\n
Over the next four years, I established a small home-renovation consulting business, first working from Rachel\u2019s dining table and eventually opening an office with six employees.<\/p>\n
I bought a comfortable house on a quiet street, learned to function on interrupted sleep, and discovered that three little girls could turn an ordinary Tuesday into an adventure involving spilled cereal, missing shoes, and elaborate arguments about whose stuffed rabbit was the oldest.<\/p>\n
My business grew steadily, but I rarely spoke about it outside my professional circle.<\/p>\n
I had no desire to prove anything to Nathaniel.<\/p>\n
I simply wanted to build a life in which my daughters felt secure and I could make decisions without asking permission.<\/p>\n
By the time our plane reached Charlotte, Nathaniel had spent much of the flight asking questions that sounded casual but carried unmistakable curiosity about my circumstances.<\/p>\n
He mentioned his company\u2019s recent acquisitions, the new vacation property he had purchased, and the important people he expected to meet during his visit.<\/p>\n
When he asked whether I had remarried, I answered that I had not.<\/p>\n
He gave a knowing smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cI suppose it\u2019s difficult finding someone who understands you as well as I did.\u201d<\/p>\n
I almost laughed, although I chose not to answer.<\/p>\n
At baggage claim, he continued walking beside me, apparently assuming we were headed in the same direction.<\/p>\n
Outside the terminal, the afternoon air was pleasantly warm, and I spotted Rachel standing beside a dark SUV near the passenger pickup area.<\/p>\n
Before I could wave, the rear door opened, and three familiar voices rose above the noise of passing cars.<\/p>\n
\u201cMommy!\u201d<\/p>\n
Hazel reached me first, her curls bouncing as she hurried across the sidewalk with Rachel following close behind. June wrapped both arms around my waist, while Willa held up a folded piece of paper she had apparently been carrying all afternoon.<\/p>\n
I knelt to gather them into my arms, laughing as they competed to tell me everything that had happened during my overnight trip.<\/p>\n
\u201cI missed you so much,\u201d I told them.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe missed you more,\u201d Hazel insisted.<\/p>\n
\u201cI made you a picture,\u201d Willa announced.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd I learned to write a J without help,\u201d June added proudly.<\/p>\n
For a few precious moments, the airport, the flight, and the man standing behind me disappeared from my thoughts.<\/p>\n
Then I heard Nathaniel speak.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily?\u201d
\n
\nSomething in his voice made me turn.<\/p>\n
He was staring at the girls with an expression I had never seen on his face before.<\/p>\n
\u201cThese are your children?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d I answered, keeping one hand on Hazel\u2019s shoulder.<\/p>\n
He looked from one little face to another, studying their matching chestnut curls and gray-green eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cAll three?\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re triplets.\u201d<\/p>\n
His gaze returned to mine.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow old are they?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFour. They\u2019ll turn five next month.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nathaniel stopped moving.<\/p>\n
I watched him silently work backward through the years, remembering when our divorce had become final and when I had left Connecticut.<\/p>\n
Then he looked again at Hazel, whose eyes were so much like his that I had recognized the resemblance from the moment she was born.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily,\u201d he said quietly, \u201care they my daughters?\u201d<\/p>\n
Rachel stepped closer, sensing that the conversation was becoming too serious for three little girls standing beside an airport curb.<\/p>\n
I took a moment before answering.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe need to talk about this, Nathaniel, but not in front of them.\u201d<\/p>\n
His expression tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew all this time?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI knew I was expecting when I left. I didn\u2019t know how to tell you, and eventually I convinced myself that keeping our lives separate was the safest thing to do.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked away, struggling to absorb my words.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlmost five years, Emily.\u201d<\/p>\n
I could hear the hurt beneath his disbelief, and although I had spent years protecting myself from his judgments, I could not pretend his feelings were unreasonable.<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand,\u201d I said. \u201cBut the girls come first. We can speak tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n
I helped my daughters into their seats, promised Nathaniel I would contact him, and climbed into the SUV beside Rachel.<\/p>\n
As we pulled away, Willa asked whether the serious-looking man was someone I knew.<\/p>\n
\u201cSomeone from a long time ago, sweetheart,\u201d I replied.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs he nice?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked through the rear window at Nathaniel standing alone beside the terminal.<\/p>\n
\u201cI hope he\u2019s learning to be,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
The Secret Hidden in an Old Family File<\/p>\n
That evening, after the girls had shown me their drawings, eaten dinner, and settled into bed, my phone rang.<\/p>\n
Nathaniel\u2019s name appeared on the screen.<\/p>\n
I answered from the kitchen, where Rachel was helping me put away the dishes.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily, I found something you need to see.\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice sounded tired.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA file from my father\u2019s private office. I came across it last week while reviewing old company records, but I didn\u2019t understand what it meant until today.\u201d<\/p>\n
He paused.<\/p>\n
\u201cSomeone in my family knew about your pregnancy.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat down.<\/p>\n
Nathaniel explained that the folder contained correspondence about our divorce, along with a report prepared by a private investigator who had followed my move to North Carolina.<\/p>\n
There were references to a medical appointment and a note suggesting that I was expecting more than one child.<\/p>\n
At the bottom of the report was a handwritten instruction from his father, Frederick Whitcomb.<\/p>\n
The information was to remain confidential until the divorce settlement had been completed.<\/p>\n
I felt a familiar heaviness settle in my chest.<\/p>\n
Frederick had always viewed family matters through the language of business, treating disagreements as problems to contain rather than feelings to understand.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you know about this?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Nathaniel answered. \u201cI swear I didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
He sent me copies of the documents, and I spent the next hour reading them beside Rachel.<\/p>\n
One letter particularly caught my attention.<\/p>\n
It had been written by Nathaniel\u2019s younger sister, Caroline, who had visited me shortly before our separation and had seemed unusually concerned about my health.<\/p>\n
In the letter, she urged her father to tell Nathaniel what the investigation had uncovered.<\/p>\n
His response was brief and dismissive.<\/p>\n
He believed Nathaniel was unprepared for fatherhood and that revealing the pregnancy would complicate the settlement.<\/p>\n
Caroline had also attempted to contact me, but I remembered returning an unopened envelope bearing the Whitcomb family address because I had been too anxious to face another confrontation.<\/p>\n
I called her that night.<\/p>\n
She answered on the fourth ring, and when I introduced myself, she became quiet.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily, I\u2019ve wondered about you for years.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew I was pregnant?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI suspected before you left. Later, I found out my father had ordered someone to investigate. I tried to make him tell Nathaniel, but he refused.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell Nathaniel yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n
She hesitated.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I was afraid of my father, and because I convinced myself that you wanted to be left alone. I should have done more.\u201d<\/p>\n
I appreciated that she did not attempt to excuse her silence.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou could have changed so much,\u201d I told her.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n
After we ended the call, I sat beside the window for a long time, thinking about how many decisions had been made by people who believed they knew what was best for everyone else.<\/p>\n
I had kept my pregnancy private because I feared Nathaniel\u2019s reaction.<\/p>\n
His father had concealed what he learned because he feared the consequences for the family business.<\/p>\n
Caroline had remained silent because she feared challenging her father.<\/p>\n
And Nathaniel, believing I wanted nothing to do with him, had never questioned the story he had been given.<\/p>\n
Our fears had created years of distance that none of us could recover.<\/p>\n
The Conversation We Should Have Had Years Earlier
\nNathaniel arrived at my office the following morning carrying the original documents in a worn leather folder.<\/p>\n
Rachel sat beside me while he took a chair across the desk, and for the first time since I had known him, he seemed uncertain about what to say.<\/p>\n
\u201cI owe you an apology,\u201d he began.<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot just for yesterday. For the way I treated you when we were married. I thought providing a comfortable home meant I was doing everything a husband needed to do.\u201d<\/p>\n
He glanced toward the window.<\/p>\n
\u201cI never understood how lonely you felt until I started remembering the things you used to ask me for.\u201d<\/p>\n
I folded my hands.
\n
\n\u201cI wasn\u2019t asking for a bigger house, Nathaniel. I wanted a husband who listened.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know that now.\u201d<\/p>\n
We spoke for nearly two hours, sometimes calmly and sometimes with the discomfort that comes from finally acknowledging truths both people have avoided.<\/p>\n
I admitted that withholding the pregnancy had been a decision shaped by fear and that I should have found a safer, more responsible way to address his relationship with the children.<\/p>\n
Nathaniel acknowledged that his past behavior had given me reasons to doubt whether he would respect my choices.<\/p>\n
Neither admission erased the other.<\/p>\n
Eventually, he asked whether he could meet the girls.<\/p>\n
\u201cI want to know them,\u201d he said. \u201cNot because they\u2019re Whitcombs or because I think I can make up for everything with money. I want to know what makes them laugh, what they\u2019re afraid of, and whether they like the same ridiculous breakfast cereal I did when I was little.\u201d<\/p>\n
I studied his face, searching for the impatience that used to appear whenever something required more than a quick solution.<\/p>\n
It was not there.<\/p>\n
\u201cFirst, we\u2019ll arrange a paternity test,\u201d I said. \u201cThen, if everything is confirmed, we\u2019ll introduce you slowly, with guidance from someone who understands what children their age need.\u201d<\/p>\n
He agreed without argument.<\/p>\n
I also made it clear that our daughters would not become part of a public family announcement or a dispute over the past.<\/p>\n
They deserved stability, not a sudden rearrangement of everything familiar.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t expect you to trust me immediately,\u201d Nathaniel said as he prepared to leave.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s good,\u201d I replied. \u201cBecause trust is something you\u2019ll have to earn.\u201d<\/p>\n
He gave a small, thoughtful smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen I\u2019ll start there.\u201d<\/p>\n
Learning What It Means to Show Up<\/p>\n
Three weeks later, the test confirmed that Nathaniel was the girls\u2019 biological father.<\/p>\n
I called him after they had gone to bed, and when I told him the results, he remained silent for several seconds.<\/p>\n
\u201cI have three daughters,\u201d he finally whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, you do.\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice trembled slightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wish I\u2019d known them from the beginning.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
We arranged their first meeting at a botanical garden on a sunny Saturday morning, with Rachel accompanying us and a family counselor helping us prepare the girls beforehand.<\/p>\n
Nathaniel arrived early, wearing jeans and a simple blue shirt, looking more nervous than I had ever seen him during a business negotiation.<\/p>\n
Hazel approached him first.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re the man from the airport,\u201d she announced.<\/p>\n
He smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s right. My name is Nathaniel.\u201d<\/p>\n
June studied him carefully.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you like butterflies?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVery much.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen you should see the yellow ones,\u201d she said, taking his hand with the easy confidence of a child who had decided someone was worth showing something important.<\/p>\n
Willa was less impressed.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan you draw a horse?\u201d<\/p>\n
Nathaniel hesitated.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot a very good one.\u201d<\/p>\n
She considered this information before offering her opinion.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s okay. Mommy says everybody has to practice.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed, and to my surprise, Nathaniel laughed too.<\/p>\n
Over the following months, he began becoming part of their lives in small, consistent ways.<\/p>\n
He attended preschool performances, learned which snacks each daughter preferred, and discovered that Hazel disliked loud noises, June wanted every bedtime story read twice, and Willa believed sandwiches tasted better when cut into triangles.<\/p>\n
He sometimes made mistakes, and there were moments when our old disagreements resurfaced, but he gradually learned to listen rather than insist that his way was best.<\/p>\n
I watched carefully, unwilling to confuse a few good afternoons with lasting change.<\/p>\n
Yet as the seasons passed, he continued to arrive when he promised, even when there was no special occasion and nothing to gain except an ordinary hour with his daughters.<\/p>\n
Caroline eventually visited, bringing a small collection of childhood photographs and an apology she offered without expecting forgiveness.<\/p>\n
The girls welcomed her after she spent an entire afternoon helping them construct a cardboard castle in the living room.<\/p>\n
Our lives did not become perfect, and Nathaniel and I did not suddenly rediscover the marriage we had lost.<\/p>\n
That was never the goal.<\/p>\n
We were learning how to build something different, with our daughters\u2019 happiness at its center.<\/p>\n
The Family We Chose to Become
\nNearly a year after that unexpected flight, Nathaniel and I sat together on a wooden bench outside the girls\u2019 school while they finished an afternoon activity.<\/p>\n
The autumn air was cool, and fallen leaves gathered along the edge of the sidewalk.<\/p>\n
Hazel came running toward us carrying a paper crown, followed by June with a folder full of drawings and Willa proudly displaying a small clay turtle.<\/p>\n
Nathaniel helped them collect their backpacks while I listened to three overlapping explanations about their day.<\/p>\n
When the girls hurried ahead toward the car, he turned to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn\u2019t ended up on that plane?\u201d<\/p>\n
I considered his question.<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you think you would have told me eventually?\u201d<\/p>\n
I watched our daughters laughing beneath the trees.<\/p>\n
\u201cI hope I would have found the courage to do it differently,\u201d I answered. \u201cThere are things I wish I\u2019d handled better, too.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded, accepting the answer without trying to change it.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wish I\u2019d been someone you felt safe telling.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him, remembering the man who had once believed that a beautiful house and a comfortable bank account were enough to make a marriage successful.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wish that too.\u201d<\/p>\n
For a while, we sat quietly, watching the girls examine something they had discovered in the grass.<\/p>\n
Then Nathaniel stood and picked up the backpacks.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t give them those first years back,\u201d he said. \u201cBut I can make sure they never have to wonder whether I\u2019ll be there tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n
I watched him walk toward our daughters, kneeling when Willa called him over to inspect the tiny caterpillar she had found.<\/p>\n
There had been a time when I thought healing meant reaching a point where the past no longer hurt, but I had come to understand that healing was often quieter than that, arriving through ordinary days when people kept their promises and learned to treat one another with greater care.<\/p>\n
Nathaniel and I were not husband and wife anymore, and there were still conversations ahead of us that would require patience and honesty.<\/p>\n
But our daughters had begun to know their father, and he was learning that being a parent had very little to do with wealth or influence and everything to do with showing up when someone needed him.<\/p>\n
As we walked toward the car, Hazel reached for my hand, June took Nathaniel\u2019s, and Willa hurried between us, explaining that her clay turtle needed a name before bedtime.<\/p>\n
I looked at the three little girls who had once made me afraid of an uncertain future and realized how much they had taught all of us about love.<\/p>\n
It was not something that could be guaranteed by a marriage certificate, purchased with an expensive gift, or restored through a single apology.<\/p>\n
It was built slowly, in the choices we made every day, especially when those choices required us to put someone else\u2019s needs before our own.<\/p>\n
And as the girls\u2019 laughter filled the cool afternoon air, I knew that although we could never change the years we had lost, we still had the chance to give them something far more important than a perfect family story.<\/p>\n
We could give them a family willing to keep learning how to love one another well.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The Three Little Girls Waiting at the Airport Five years after I walked away from my marriage, I found myself sitting beside my former husband on a flight from Boston … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":22631,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[15,16,6,5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-22633","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-family","category-inspiration","category-news","category-real-life-story"],"brizy_media":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22633","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=22633"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22633\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22634,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22633\/revisions\/22634"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/22631"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=22633"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=22633"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=22633"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}