Chapter 3

I brought a sleeping Lily home and put her to bed. I sat by her side for over an hour, just watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, reassuring myself that she was safe.

Around nine o' clock, I heard the front door open, followed by the sound of Leo and Sophia' s cheerful laughter. They sounded like they didn' t have a care in the world.

I walked out of Lily' s room and met them in the hallway. Leo was smiling, holding shopping bags. Sophia was showing him something on her phone. They acted as if it had been a perfectly normal, happy day.

"Oh, you' re still up," Leo said, his smile faltering slightly when he saw the look on my face. "We had a great time. Bought some souvenirs."

My hands were clenched into fists at my sides. "Where was Lily?" I asked, my voice dangerously quiet.

"What do you mean? She' s a big girl now, I' m sure she' s already asleep," he said dismissively.

"I mean where was she at four o' clock this afternoon?"

He frowned, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. "Four o' clock? We were... getting cotton candy, I think. Why?"

"The park called me, Leo," I said, the words coming out like chips of ice. "They found her. Alone. Crying at the exit of a ride you put her on by herself."

His face paled. He finally seemed to understand. "Oh. Right. The Sky Screamer." He looked around, as if checking to make sure Lily was okay. "Is she alright?"

"Is she alright?" I repeated, my voice rising with disbelief. "No thanks to you! You abandoned her, Leo! You left our six-year-old daughter all by herself at an amusement park!"

"I didn' t abandon her," he said defensively, his voice taking on an irritated edge. "Sophia wanted to play one of the carnival games across the way. I told Lily I' d be right back. The game just took longer than I expected. It was a simple mistake."

"A simple mistake?" I stared at him, my heart turning to stone. He wasn' t sorry. He was annoyed that I was angry. "She was terrified, Leo. She thought you had left her for good. Do you have any idea what that does to a child?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of pure exasperation. "Look, she' s fine, isn' t she? No harm done. You' re overreacting, as usual."

That was it. The last thread of hope, the last shred of affection I might have been clinging to, snapped. I looked at this man, this stranger who shared my bed and my life, and I felt nothing but a cold, empty void.

"I want a divorce," I said, the words clear and final.

His face hardened. The dismissive annoyance was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating anger. "We' re not having this conversation again. You' re being irrational."

"I have never been more rational in my life," I replied. "I am done. I am done with you, with this... arrangement, with watching you prioritize everyone and everything over your own family."

"You want to talk about family?" he sneered, his voice dropping to a threatening tone. "What do you think a divorce will do to Lily? Do you want her to grow up in a broken home? Do you want to be the selfish mother who tore her family apart because her husband made one small mistake?"

He was using her. He was using our daughter' s well-being as a weapon to keep me in line, to make me feel guilty and monstrous. He painted me as the villain for wanting to escape his cruelty.

"A broken home is better than a toxic one," I whispered, but my voice lacked conviction. He knew exactly where to strike. The thought of hurting Lily, of making her life even harder, was my greatest weakness.

"You' ll destroy her, Ava," he continued, pressing his advantage. "She needs a father. She needs a stable home. Are you really going to take that away from her out of spite?"

I had no answer. The fight drained out of me, replaced by a profound, soul-crushing exhaustion. I couldn' t argue with his twisted logic. I couldn' t win. He would always find a way to make me the one in the wrong.

Defeated, I turned and walked back to Lily' s room, closing the door on him and his empty, poisonous words. I curled up on the small rug beside her bed, just needing to be near her, and cried silent, bitter tears.