Chapter 3
At 8:30 AM, we arrived at the courthouse.
Camilo was already there, waiting for us.
And he wasn't alone. His assistant, Jessica King, the other woman, stood beside him.
Her barely-there baby bump was pushed forward as if it were a shield, and her young face was a mask of smug triumph.
When Camilo saw me, his eyes widened in surprise.
Jessica, noticing his reaction, gave his arm a jealous tug.
He snapped back to reality, his gaze quickly dropping to the ground in embarrassment.
Emma sauntered right up to them. "Hi, Jessica," she said sweetly. "Why are you rubbing your stomach like that? Did you eat too much for breakfast?"
"You!"
Jessica's face flared red. She turned to Camilo, shaking his arm frantically. "Camilo, look at her! Look at what your daughter is doing to me!" she complained.
Camilo frowned, opening his mouth to scold her, but Emerson beat him to it.
"Emma, what is wrong with you?" he said sternly. "You used to get away with being a brat because Dad was there to protect you. You think you can still act like that now?"
"I..."
Emma flinched. Her eyes grew wide and shiny with unshed tears as she looked cautiously at her father, murmuring, "I'm sorry, Daddy. It was just a stupid joke. I didn't mean anything by it, I promise. Please don't be angry."
Camilo froze. He couldn't help but remember all the years they had spent curled up on his lap, their childish laughter filling the room.
He had spoiled them, and they had grown up smart and witty. Now, even a little joke was a crime.
He turned his anger on Jessica, snapping, "She's just a kid! What are you doing, picking fights with a child? Go wait outside!"
With the courthouse staff as our witnesses, Camilo and I signed the divorce papers. In one month, we would be officially, legally, single.
As we walked out, Jessica looped her arm through Camilo's, deliberately striding ahead of us.
"Darling," she purred, loud enough for us to hear, "where should we go to celebrate tonight?"
Emerson, lounging a few steps behind, called out lazily, "That revolving restaurant downtown is pretty nice, Jessica. It's where my parents used to go for their anniversaries."
Emma piped up, "Oh, and that private kitchen in the suburbs is amazing! Dad drove all the way out there once just to buy Mom her favorite soup when she was feeling sad."
Emerson pretended to ponder this, talking to Emma, "You know, come to think of it, I don't think there's a single nice restaurant or fun spot in this whole city that Dad hasn't already taken Mom to."
"Of course!" Emma said proudly.
Jessica looked livid, trembling with rage.
She pinched Camilo's arm, hard.
He winced, clearly in pain but too embarrassed to react, his own face turning as sour as hers.
My children, pretending not to notice, took my hands and strolled right past the fuming couple.
"So, Emerson," Emma said brightly, "where should we go for our trip?"
Emerson grinned, answering, "How about Grogro? I hear the male models there are gorgeous, practically movie-star level. Mom could use some eye candy."
"Yes!" Emma exclaimed and clapped her hands. "Or Nowhyae! Mom has that classic look foreigners love. Maybe she could even find a new boyfriend!"
Behind us, Camilo's voice cut in, sharp and strained. "Susan. You're taking them abroad?"
"Yep," I said, not looking up from my phone. I had no desire to engage with him.
"Taking the kids on a trip... that's a good idea," he muttered, more to himself than to me.
Then, he spoke louder, "I have a friend who owns a travel agency. I can give him a call, making sure he takes good care of you."
Emma immediately stopped and turned, beaming at him. "Wow, Dad, you're the best!" she said.
"Thanks, Dad," Emerson added politely.
"Of course," Camilo said, his expression softening as he looked at his children, basking in their approval.
He was so caught up in the moment that he didn't even notice Jessica beside him. Her jaw was clenched, and her face twisted in a silent snarl.