Leaving a Broken Marriage: No Remarriage, No forgiveness

My husband was a workaholic with no sense of romance. Even in bed, he only touched me in the few days after a project wrapped.

After our daughter was born, nothing changed. He never had time to celebrate a holiday with her, never once threw her a proper birthday party.

Whenever our daughter and I looked crushed and hurt, Leigh Gilbert would only frown and snap:

"I work myself to the bone, don't I? Isn't it all so the two of you never have to worry about a thing?"

My best friend used to reassure me too: "An architectural genius like your husband, he's got nothing in his eyes but work. Sure, he's a little clueless about romance, but at least he'd never cheat on you. Right?"

So I comforted myself, too.

Leigh only seemed cold on the surface. Underneath it all, his love was buried deep in his heart.

Then came the day of the Children's Day event at our daughter's preschool, when we saw it with our own eyes: him holding a young woman's hand as he walked into the preschool next door.

Perched on his shoulders was an excited little boy.

That face of his, always so remote and detached, was now full of an adoration and indulgence I'd never once seen.

I hurried to gather my heartbroken daughter into my arms to soothe her, but my own tears fell first.

On the way home, I forced myself to scroll through every corner of Leigh's social media.

Following his list of accounts, I found the woman's profile.

Over a thousand posts filled the whole page.

Sunsets by the sea, family camping trips, birthday parties, trips around the world.

And Leigh was in every single post.

So it turned out he wasn't a husband who didn't understand romance, and he wasn't a father who didn't know how to love a child.

It was only that his tenderness, his patience, his favor had never belonged to me and our daughter.

After I put our daughter to sleep, I picked up my phone and sent a message to my great-aunt overseas:

"I'll take my daughter to France to inherit your fortune, all ten billion of it, and settle there for good."

In seven days, I would take my daughter and leave this city, and leave Leigh completely behind.

I kept scrolling through that woman's thousand-some posts, almost like I was punishing myself.

Only then did I learn the truth: Kate Pruitt was Leigh's high school first love, the one who'd vanished from his life without a word.

Two years ago, she divorced and came back to the country, reuniting with Leigh, her four-year-old son in tow.

From then on the old flame reignited, and they never lost touch again.

In every photo those posts displayed, Leigh stood forever at the side of Kate and her son, his eyes soft.

And Amy Gilbert and I had once struggled just to get a single photo together with him.

Leigh had bought Kate's son countless expensive gifts, while all he'd ever given our daughter was a single limited-edition rabbit doll on Amy's fourth birthday.

Amy had been over the moon, hugging that rabbit all night long, refusing to let it go even in the bath.

Back then I'd gone soft over it, telling myself Leigh simply didn't know how to show his love.

But in one of Kate's posts from six months ago, I saw that rabbit doll for what it really was: an old toy her son had gotten bored of and tossed aside.

So it turned out what Leigh gave us had never been love.

It was going through the motions, making do, a pity he tossed us in passing.

And what he gave them was the real thing: earnest, cherished, favor held back for no one but them.

I scrubbed hard at the tears that had somehow reached the corners of my mouth, and felt nothing but a bitterness beyond words.

I didn't want to keep looking, but my eyes still couldn't stop themselves from sliding to the next post.

The instant I saw it clearly, I bit through my lower lip.

In the photo Leigh knelt on one knee, cradling Kate's ankle in his palm, head bowed as he slipped a delicate high heel onto her foot.

For Kate, he didn't care that his suit was smudged with dust, didn't care that kneeling on the ground was beneath a man of his standing.

The caption read:

"Leigh says I look like a white swan when I wear heels. How is he still such a smooth talker, all honeyed words."

Before I saw Kate's page, it had never once crossed my mind that the words "smooth talker" could someday be tied to Leigh.

I lifted my eyes in a daze and looked at the shoe cabinet in the corner of the room.

A pair of high heels sat there quietly, thick with dust, the pearls set at the toes long since dulled.

Six years ago, newly married, I'd worn them to a dinner at Leigh's side, and because I wasn't used to them, I'd rolled my ankle and fallen flat on my face.

He'd stood off to the side, frowning as he dodged my outstretched hand: "Stop wearing things that don't suit you."

At the time I'd only felt mortified and ashamed. Now I understood the coldness and the disgust buried in those words.

My heart felt like someone had carved a bleeding hole straight through it, aching until it trembled.

Kate was a white swan. Then what was I?

Did Leigh think of me, his wife, as some clumsy ugly duckling?

Just as my ears were ringing and my head was spinning, the electronic lock clicked open outside the door.

I turned off my phone on instinct.

Leigh was home, still wearing that remote, detached look, a faint weariness sitting between his brows.

Every time I'd seen him like this before, my heart had ached for him, and I'd rush to reheat his food, brew his tea, lay out fresh clothes.

But looking at him now, all I felt was a chill.

Did he show that same exhaustion in front of Kate and her son?

Or did he hide every trace of tiredness, and hold out only his tenderness to them.

Seeing my red-rimmed eyes, Leigh knit his brows slightly.

"What's wrong? Did Amy give you a hard time?"

He stepped closer and raised a hand to wipe the tears from the corner of my eye.

"The client changed the plans at the last minute today. That's the only reason I couldn't make it to the preschool event. Tomorrow I'll take an hour off, take you and Amy for cake, make it up to you. All right?"

Leigh rarely reached for me first, so on instinct I didn't pull away. But as he drew near, a strange, heavy perfume slipped into my nose first.

In that instant, my stomach turned.

"There's no need."

I took a clumsy step back, avoiding his touch.

"Architect Gilbert's time is so precious. We wouldn't dare waste it."

I hadn't forgotten the last time he said he'd make it up to me and our daughter, and then left us waiting at a restaurant from opening until they closed for the night.

"Millie Fox." Leigh's voice dropped low, a warning sign of his impatience.

"I went out of my way to make time for you, and you still want more? Do you have any idea how much money I lose taking a single hour off?!"

Hearing that, I couldn't help but clench my fingertips. I wanted to say something, but then, slowly, I let them go.

In all these years with Leigh, our daughter and I had never once managed to get a whole weekend of his.

Just one hour. It couldn't compare to the days and nights he gave Kate and her son.

Leigh's gaze stalled for a moment, but before he could get a word out, his phone lit up.

He lowered his eyes and glanced at the screen, and that trace of weariness between his brows vanished in an instant.

I saw the message clearly:

"Leigh, Evan Abbott keeps crying from a nightmare. Could you come help me?"

Leigh didn't hesitate. He turned and headed for the door.

Only when he reached the entryway did he look back and offer a half-hearted excuse:

"Something urgent came up with the project. I'm heading out. You and Amy get to bed early."

The moment the door shut, Amy, who'd been pretending to sleep, suddenly wrapped her arms tight around my waist under the covers, letting out little sobs like a kitten.

My heart ached so much I could barely breathe. All I could do was pat her back gently.

I didn't dare think about how many times he'd fed us that same lie.

Leigh, one more week, and you and your first love won't have to keep hiding anymore.

My daughter and I will settle overseas. We won't stand in the way of your reunion ever again.

Half an hour later, Kate's account posted an update. I couldn't stop myself from opening it.

"Evan gets more and more attached to his uncle every day. Leigh is really so good to us."

In the video, Evan woke with a start from his nightmare, and Leigh scooped him into his arms at once, his movements so practiced it was as if he'd done it countless times before.

He hummed a lullaby under his breath, patting the child's back, over and over.

So tender he was nothing like the Leigh I knew.

A week ago, Amy had been burning with a fever that wouldn't break, half-delirious, clutching his hand and crying, "Daddy, I feel awful."

But Leigh only looked irritated, pulling his hand out of Amy's grip without a second's hesitation.

"Take her to the hospital. Don't make a fuss at home and ruin my sleep. It'll mess up my work tomorrow."

I forced myself to fall asleep.

Let Leigh be good to whomever he wanted.

From now on, I'd love Amy well, and I'd love myself well too.

The next day, I contacted a divorce lawyer, and while I was at it, I filed my immigration paperwork.

Leigh didn't come home until dusk, and the moment he walked in, he issued his instructions.

"There's a class reunion the day after tomorrow. Get yourself together, dress up nicely."

He handed me a velvet box. Inside lay a diamond necklace.

The implication was simple enough: don't embarrass him in front of everyone.

Once, I would have thrown myself into his arms, dizzy with the honor of it, moved to tears that he'd been romantic enough, for once, to buy me a gift.

But the first thought that surfaced now was this,

Was this just something Kate had turned her nose up at, so he'd tossed it my way?

Seeing that I didn't take it, Leigh frowned.

"You don't like it? Weren't you always after me to buy you presents?"

That was true. I used to long for Leigh to give me something, anything, even just a single flower. He never did.

And this morning, when I took Amy to the mall to cancel the annual pass for her picture-book class, I ran into Leigh with Kate on one arm and a little boy holding his other hand.

Wherever Kate's gaze lingered a moment too long, he bought it for her without a second's hesitation.

In all Amy's years, Leigh had never once taken us out together as a family.

His words still echoed in my head, the question Amy asked on the way home,

"Mommy, is Daddy not going to keep us anymore?"

In that moment my heart felt like it was being crushed in someone's fist, and I forced up a smile.

"It's not that Daddy doesn't want us. It's that we don't want this bad daddy anymore."

Amy, who had always ached for her father's love, actually nodded.

"Okay. Then we won't keep the bad daddy."

Done. I wouldn't love him anymore, either.

I dropped the necklace Leigh had given me into a drawer, stopped caring where he was off to next, and went on, step by step, preparing to leave.

After canceling Amy's enrichment classes, I set out to cancel the school-district home I'd originally bought for her.

I'd toured seventeen developments before finally settling on that place. The contract was drawn up; all it needed was Leigh's signature.

But he always said, "Just wait a little. I've been busy lately."

There was no need to keep waiting now. I gave a self-mocking little laugh and dialed the landlord.

"Hello, I'd like to cancel my order."

The landlord froze. "Cancel? Didn't your husband already buy it?"

My breath stopped short. "What do you mean?"

"Let me send you a photo."

Sure enough, the photo was Leigh and Kate again.

The school-district home I'd hand-picked with such care, he'd turned around and given to another woman and her child.

It felt like someone had torn my chest wide open, the pain so sharp I could barely breathe.

I grabbed my bag and, seething, rushed off to the very class reunion I'd had no wish to attend.

The private room was full of laughter. When I pushed the door open, I walked right in on them playing truth or dare.

Kate had lost, and her forfeit was to kiss someone of the opposite sex in the room.

Cheeks flushed, she looked timidly toward Leigh.

Leigh said nothing. He only turned his face slightly, an indulgent smile at the corner of his lips.

So Kate leaned in shyly and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

The room erupted into cheers.

Standing in the doorway, whatever emotion had still been churning inside me suddenly went still.

Leigh saw me, and the smile at his lips faded a little. He patted the narrow spot beside him.

"Sit here."

I didn't move. I only said, quietly,

"Leigh, let's get divorced."

The room went dead silent all at once.

Leigh blinked, stunned for a moment, then lifted a hand to rub the space between his brows.

"Millie, what are you making a fuss about now? Just because Kate gave me a little kiss, you're jealous? It was just a game. Is it really worth all this?"

A kiss, in his mouth, sounded like nothing at all.

I drew a deep breath and held up the photo on my phone in front of him.

"The kiss is a small thing. What about this house? When you gave Amy's school-district home to Kate, did you spare a single thought for us?"

Guilt flickered across Leigh's face, but it was quickly buried under impatience.

"It's just a house. It's not easy for Kate, raising a child alone. Evan's about to start elementary school, he needs to be in a good district."

"If you want a house, I'll just buy you another one. Stop being unreasonable."

Unreasonable. Those two words shoved all my grievance, all my resentment, right back down my throat.

Leigh's childhood friend was the first to react.

"His wife shouldn't read into it. Leigh's just kindhearted, helping out an old classmate in a tough spot. Don't overthink it."

Kate stood up too, her eyes red.

"Millie, you've got it all wrong. I'm a single mom, he just felt sorry for me and my boy, that's all"

Her tears hovered, on the verge of falling, and Leigh's buddies instantly closed ranks around her.

"Kate's already in this state and you still won't let it go?"

"Do you have any idea how many women would kill to marry a decent, hardworking husband like Leigh who only knows how to make money? Quit while you're ahead."

The room was thick with accusation and mockery.

This was exactly why I hated coming to Leigh's class reunions.

Every year, if I was there, I became everyone's target, the one they needled and sneered at.

They thought marrying Leigh was more luck than I deserved in eight lifetimes. But they'd forgotten.

The woman I used to be had stood on the stage of an international design exhibition and won awards.

After we married, Leigh said he loved coming home to warm soup and soft lamplight, so I locked my talent and my dreams away in a drawer together.

And now my concessions had become, in their mouths, dependence; my sacrifices had become, in their eyes, marrying above my station.

Loving someone until you've ground yourself into the dust truly grows no flowers. It only gets you trampled deeper into the mud while they take more and more.

Kate's best friend looked at me coldly.

"What a drama queen. If you ask me, her life's just been too easy."

Every mocking gaze in the room settled on me.

They probably all figured that, with things blown up this far, I'd back down and behave the way I had for the past six years.

Instead, I pulled the divorce papers I'd prepared long ago out of my bag and set them on the table.

"Sign them, Leigh."

Leigh looked at the papers, froze for a couple of seconds, then let out a soft laugh.

"Millie, since when did you learn tricks like this? Retreat to advance, play hard to get?"

I clenched my fingers, my nails biting painfully into my palm.

So in his eyes, all my hurt and disappointment were nothing but a woman's petty jealous games.

"Sign it." I looked at him.

"Or I file for legal separation and take it to court. Your choice."

The amusement on Leigh's face thinned.

"Leave? A woman who hasn't worked in six years, dragging a kid along. What are you going to leave with?"

Once, those words might have genuinely frightened me.

Now I just felt numb.

Back then he was the one who told me to give up my career and put my family first, and now he was using all of it to prove I couldn't survive without him.

He didn't know that my great-aunt in France had been waiting for me to come inherit her estate.

I'd already secured a way out for myself and for Amy.

I couldn't be bothered to explain. I turned and walked away.

Behind me came the scrape of a chair, as if Leigh had stood up on instinct.

But the next second, a glass shattered.

"Leigh, it hurts so much..."

Kate drew in a low, hissing breath.

Leigh turned back almost instantly, dropping to one knee to cradle her cut hand.

"Don't move. I'll get the first-aid kit."

The way he panicked, you'd have thought she'd been badly wounded.

Kate looked at me with red-rimmed eyes.

"Millie, are you upset? Go after her, quick. I'm fine, really..."

Leigh didn't even lift his head.

"Let her go. A little time to cool off will do her good, so she stops making scenes over nothing."

Back when we'd first gotten together, all I had to do was get angry, and before I'd taken three steps Leigh would chase after me to apologize and make peace.

I found myself almost laughable. For that one instant, I'd actually thought he would come after me.

Millie, what are you still expecting from him?

The moment my heart had once fluttered for him was worth nothing next to everything Kate had gotten.

After I left the hotel, Kate sent me a selfie.

In the photo, she was lying next to Leigh, an unmistakable red mark showing just below her collarbone.

"I hope you keep your word. After all, your husband and I fit together very nicely in bed now."

I stared at that photo for a long time, until my vision blurred. In the end I just blocked Kate and forwarded the photo to my lawyer.

The whole way home, I was consulting him about marital infidelity and custody.

When I got home that night, the laughter in the living room stopped me in my tracks.

Sitting in the rocking horse chair Amy loved most was Kate's son.

"That's mine..."

Amy, unable to wrestle it back from the boy, said it in a small voice.

"What's the harm in letting your little brother play with it for a bit?" Kate said with a smile.

But Evan, pushing his luck, grabbed Amy's favorite picture book and tore a page right out.

"No!" Amy lunged to stop him, only to be shoved hard.

A thud.

Her forehead slammed into the coffee table.

"Amy!"

"Kate, who gave you permission to bring your kid into my home? Get out!"

My mind went blank. I rushed over, pulled my daughter into my arms, and shouted.

Sensing things had turned against him, Evan promptly plopped down on the floor and wailed.

Kate scooped up her son, eyes reddening.

"Millie, Evan just wanted to look at the book since he'd never seen it. If you didn't want to share, fine, but how could you teach Amy to shove him?"

"You"

"Millie, this is my home. You don't get to tell anyone to leave. Be as jealous as you want, but don't take it out on a child!"

I'd barely opened my mouth when Leigh came at the sound and actually planted himself in front of the two of them.

Then he turned to Amy.

"Amy, apologize."

The little girl in my arms flinched all over.

"Daddy... I didn't push him..."

"Apologize!"

Leigh's tone left no room for argument.

I looked down at the welt swelling fast on Amy's forehead, and my heart felt like it was being ripped open.

"Leigh! My daughter did nothing wrong!!"

"She doesn't have to apologize. You're free to protect whoever you want, but don't make my daughter pay for your favoritism."

Leigh's expression stalled for a moment, then his brow drew tight again.

"You really insist on raising her like this? Teaching her to be jealous, teaching her to get revenge on people?"

My eyes were bloodshot, fighting back the urge to cry, and when I looked at Leigh there was no love left in my gaze, only cold.

"I'm teaching her to tell right from wrong, to protect herself. Far better than swallowing a wrong and bowing her head to apologize! I said Amy didn't push him, so she didn't!"

Leigh was scalded by the look in my eyes. He flinched away on instinct and, for once, actually took a step back.

"If it was just a misunderstanding, let it go. Kate's pipes burst, she's got nowhere to take her kid, so she's staying with us for just one night."

"You and Amy be a little kinder to our guest. Stop making a fuss."

My heart had grown used to the bitterness and the pain. I didn't argue anymore.

I only took the backup copy of the divorce papers out of my bag.

And laid it on the coffee table.

"In that case, the house is yours to keep."

A tear slipped from the corner of my eye before I could stop it, and I wiped it away fast. I looked at Leigh, cold and distant.

"When I said divorce at the hotel, I wasn't joking."

"Leigh, you don't have to invent some urgent project anymore, and you don't have to make up a burst-pipe excuse to cheat."

"Sign, and the two of you can live together out in the open."

Kate lowered her head, all wounded innocence, but a flicker of triumph crossed her eyes.

"Millie, we're not what you think we grew up into..."

I didn't even glance at her. My eyes stayed fixed on Leigh.

"Sign it. I don't want anything. I only want Amy."

The coldness on Leigh's face finally froze over.

He looked down at the divorce papers. My name was already signed on them, the strokes clean and decisive.

Not a fit of jealousy, not a sulk, and least of all a joke.

I hadn't always been immune to jealousy.

Back when I'd first gotten pregnant, my emotions were already all over the place, insecure and raw.

A new assistant had started at Leigh's company, young and pretty, and I'd caught her deliberately throwing herself at him.

I cried, I raged, I threw out the word divorce.

What I got in return was his lazy, half-hearted attempt to smooth me over.

Back then, Leigh knew divorce was just a card I played to threaten him. He knew I'd never actually go through with it.

But this time, he noticed I wasn't hysterical the way I used to be. No crying, no scenes. Just an unnerving calm.

And it threw him.

What he didn't understand was that only a woman who still wants the marriage bothers to make a scene, to cry.

The woman I was now genuinely wanted out, so I wasn't about to waste another ounce of energy going back and forth with him.

Leigh reached out to hold me back, but right then Evan suddenly burst into tears.

"Uncle, I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?"

Leigh spun around almost instantly.

He bent down and scooped the boy up, soothing him gently. "It's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. Don't be scared."

And Amy, the red mark from where she'd hit the coffee table still on her forehead, cried without a sound, just watching him.

Leigh didn't turn around. His whole attention was fixed on Evan.

Kate spoke up softly beside them. "Little kids throw tantrums, it's completely normal. Millie, don't take it to heart."

She said it in the tone of a woman who owned the house.

I didn't say another word. I just tossed the divorce agreement onto the table and lifted Amy into my arms, my heart aching for her.

I murmured to her, "Let's go back to our room."

She didn't cry. She only nodded and followed me obediently to gather her things.

She opened her little backpack and put her picture books inside, one by one.

She was learning to give up on this father too.

That night, Leigh came into the bedroom. He took my hand.

"Today I didn't take good enough care of you and Amy. Don't be upset anymore, okay?"

"Kate isn't what you think. Her ex-husband was violent, and she had nowhere to go with her kid. I'm just helping her out. We were classmates. Stop reading something ugly into it."

"You're the only one in my heart."

How laughable. This time I hadn't been hysterical, and yet Leigh was the one lowering himself to explain.

His voice was tender, full of feeling, the kind that used to make me soften out of habit.

But the disgust in the pit of my stomach smothered that flicker of weakness.

I thought of the photos Kate had sent me. They'd already slept together, so what was all this talk of classmate loyalty?

I pushed Leigh away and said flatly, "Amy's asleep. Don't wake her."

His expression froze. The man who always held himself above everyone suddenly looked at a loss.

The next morning, when Amy and I came out into the living room, I saw Leigh bent over, blowing on a spoonful of soup to cool it before holding it to Kate's son's mouth.

His movements were easy, natural, and when the boy swallowed he even reached out on instinct to support the child's back, as though he'd done it countless times before.

Kate stood off to the side, smiling at me.

"Millie, I really envy you. Having a husband who'll help you with the kids like this."

Leigh stiffened, embarrassment flickering across his face.

My hands stilled in the middle of tying Amy's hair, my stomach knotting.

"He's never once taken care of Amy."

Kate feigned surprise, but her eyes brimmed with pity.

While Leigh slipped into the kitchen to grab something, Kate stepped up beside me and lowered her voice.

"Millie, you still haven't figured it out, have you?"

"He's long since gotten used to me and my son. We're more like a real family than you two ever were."

I lifted my eyes to her and said lightly, "You're proud of climbing your way in as the other woman?"

Kate looked at me, a faint, contemptuous smile at the corner of her lips.

"Honestly, I was in this relationship first. You don't know yet, do you? He's already had his lawyer add Evan's name to the Gilbert family trust."

She paused, watching my face for a reaction.

"And down the line, part of the company shares will go to him too. That daughter of yours? She'll get nothing."

"Still don't get it? What I mean is, you can get lost."

I only stared at her, cold, and let the mockery show. "Kate, just because Leigh doesn't know why you and your ex divorced doesn't mean I can't dig it up."

"I won't fight you. But if you push your luck, don't blame me for not being gentle about it."

Kate's face shifted slightly. She ground her teeth, and then suddenly shoved the mango cake on the table into Evan's mouth.

Evan crumpled to the floor, his little face flushing red in seconds, his throat dragging out broken, rasping wheezes.

"Millie, why did you give Evan mango?!"

Kate shrieked, tears springing out in an instant as she whipped around to fix her stare on me.

"How could you do this? Don't you know Evan's allergic to mango!"

I was just about to explain when Leigh came charging out of the kitchen.

The moment he saw the hives spreading across Evan's face, his expression darkened, and he closed the distance in a few strides, fury banked in his eyes.

"Millie, have you lost your mind?"

"Taking it out on a child because you're jealous. Is there no line you won't cross?"

My chest clenched. This blame was far too heavy, and I wouldn't carry it. "I didn't" I denied, my voice sharp with urgency.

"Didn't?"

Leigh let out a cold laugh and seized my wrist, gripping hard enough to crush the bone.

"And to think I actually felt guilty, thought you were really hurting and wanted to comfort you! Turns out you were just jealous of Kate, deliberately bullying people!"

Leigh flung my arm away, his gaze landing on Amy in the corner.

He walked over, grabbed a hard-boiled egg off the table, and pried her mouth open to shove it in.

"Don'tshe's allergic to eggs!"

I lost my voice and lunged for her, but he threw me off with his shoulder.

Amy broke into violent coughing, bits of yolk at her lips, her eyes flying wide with terror as her little hands clawed frantically at her throat.

"An eye for an eye. When you hurt someone else's child, did it ever cross your mind that another mother would ache for hers too?"

Leigh scooped Evan up and strode for the door.

Of course I knew, and right now my heart hurt so badly I could barely keep my feet under me.

While Kate, the one he believed would ache for a child, had fed her own son mango with her own hands.

Amy started struggling to breathe, hives rising across her little face at a speed I could watch.

My hands were shaking hard as I ran out and flagged down a taxi.

The driver took one look at the child and floored it, blowing through three red lights on the way.

In the back seat, I knelt with her in my arms, hooking my fingers into her throat one piece at a time to clear out what was left.

Amy cried in ragged bursts, the yolk she brought back up mixed with stomach fluid spilling all over me.

"Mommy why did Daddy want me to eat this"

I held her, my tears striking the crown of her head.

Leigh knew perfectly well Amy was allergic to eggs.

So it turned out even my daughter's life could be used as a tool for Leigh to punish me!

The glass towers of downtown slid past the car window.

I remembered seven years ago, Leigh had confessed to me on the terrace of this very building.

His ears had been burning red, but his voice was stubborn and earnest.

"Millie, I'll be good to you for the rest of my life."

Before we married, we'd talked seriously about children.

He said he wanted a daughter, wanted to tie her hair up, wanted to spoil her like a princess.

But not one of those promises had been kept.

The light outside the ER stayed lit for four hours. I sat at the far end of the hallway, the smell of vomit still clinging to me, my fingers trembling beyond my control.

My phone lit up. It was a message from my great-aunt:

"The private jet has taken off, arriving tomorrow morning. Millie, bring Amy home. I've arranged the best nursing physician."

The lawyer's message came right after:

"The evidence chain of Leigh's affair is complete. Strong advantage on custody. The asset freeze has been filed."

Drained, I leaned against the wall and slowly slid down to the floor.

I couldn't hold it back anymore and broke down sobbing aloud, as if to pour out every grievance of these years and all the fear of this moment at once.

When Amy was wheeled out, her little face was still a bit swollen, but her eyes had already brightened.

I gathered her into my arms, filled only with the lingering dread of nearly losing her.

Amy reached up to wipe away my tears.

"Mommy, don't cry. Let's leave Daddy, okay?"

"Okay. Mommy will take Amy away, and we'll never come back." I said it softly.

In the small hours, Leigh's call came through, his voice on the other end pressing down its irritation.

"Evan's fine now. Millie, this time you really went too far."

"It's not easy for Kate, raising a kid on her own. Do you have to hold a grudge against a child?"

"Come over tomorrow and apologize, and we'll call it done. I know you've been in a bad mood these past few days, so I won't hold it against you."

I listened, feeling nothing but thick disgust.

Six years of marriage, at the very least. He didn't love me, and he trusted me even less.

By what right?!

"Leigh, you nearly killed our daughter, and you still want me to apologize?!"

The line paused for a few seconds, his tone gone slightly dry.

"I lost my temper too, in the heat of it. How's Amy now?"

I looked down at the child in my arms and said, my voice cold, "Lucky to be alive."

Leigh clearly let out a breath of relief.

"So she's fine, then. Don't blow this out of proportion"

"I'm filing for divorce. Wait for my lawyer to contact you."

With that I hung up and switched the phone off completely.

Early the next morning, I carried Amy onto the plane, a newly bought teddy bear in her arms.

As we took off, she pressed against the window watching the city shrink bit by bit, then hugged the bear tight, leaned on my shoulder, and closed her eyes.

She didn't cry, and she didn't ask about Leigh again.

Every feeling scattered completely as the plane lifted off.

From now on I wouldn't be so foolish, digging through the smallest scraps for a man's love.

I only wanted to love myself and love Amy well, and to rebuild my career after inheriting the estate.

Even as a single mother, I would become a strong example for Amy.

The plane touched down, and the moment the phone powered back on, the alerts nearly buried the screen.

Leigh's missed calls and texts popped up one after another.