Chapter 4

Margaret had always praised me for being virtuous, diligent, and perfect for the family. Yet deep down, she'd only ever seen me as a convenient caretaker, meant to clean up the Carter family's messes.

My fingers curled tight, nails digging sharply into my palm until pain pricked at my skin.

Lily stirred awake from the noise, rubbing her sleepy eyes and sitting up slowly, her voice small and drowsy. "Mommy..."

I hurried over to pull her safely into my arms.

Margaret refused to back down, doubling down on her demands. "You can leave if you insist, but Lily stays here. She's my grandchild.

"With no job and no steady income, how could you possibly provide a stable life for her?"

I turned to face her, every word sharp, unyielding, and unshakable. "Even if I have to take the humblest job to get by, it will never be your right to dictate how I raise my daughter."

Holding Lily close in my arms, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out the door without a single backward glance.

Torrential rain poured down that night.

I stood at the residential complex entrance, rainwater cascading thickly from the building eaves. The suitcase wheels caught in the cracked tile pavement, stuck fast, no matter how hard I pulled.

Lily wrapped her small arms around my neck, whispering, "Mommy, where are we going?"

I leaned down to kiss her still-burning forehead. "Somewhere it's just you and me, my baby."

She nodded obediently, then asked quietly, "What about Daddy?"

My throat tightened with suppressed emotion. "Daddy isn't coming with us."

She fell silent for a moment, then spoke in a quiet, earnest tone beyond her years, "That's okay then. Daddy's always too busy anyway."

Tears flooded my teary-eyed gaze at her innocent words.

Through the sheets of pouring rain, a black SUV pulled to a smooth stop directly in front of me.

The window rolled down, revealing Ethan's calm, unruffled face. "Get in the car."

I stood rooted in place, hesitant to impose on him.

He glanced at me, his tone firm and unyielding. "Sophie, if you still insist on saying you don't want to trouble me tonight, I'll think you've lost every bit of your good sense."

His blunt candor caught me off guard.

Before I could formulate a reply, Lily mumbled weakly in my arms, "Mommy, I'm cold..."

I abandoned all pretense of being strong.

Stepping forward to get into the car, I watched Ethan dash through the rain to open the trunk and stow my suitcase.

He asked no questions about my destination, simply driving me to a nearby 24-hour hotel and booking a private suite on the spot.

As the front desk clerk handed over the room key, I stood awkwardly to the side, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"I will pay you back every single dollar," I said.

Ethan pressed the room key into my palm, his tone steady. "Focus on getting through today first. We can settle repayment later."

I said nothing more.

That night, I lay on the hotel bed holding Lily, unable to close my eyes for a single second.

At dawn, I made three unshakable decisions for my future.

First, I contacted a divorce attorney to schedule a consultation.

Second, I updated my resume and began applying for every baking-related job opening I could find.

Third, I sold my wedding ring.

Andrew had bought the ring during his first year of entrepreneurship; it was not a luxury designer brand, yet it was once priceless to me.

I still remembered him standing beneath our old rental apartment building with a red velvet box, speaking softly, "I can't give you the perfect life right now, but I promise I'll give you everything you deserve someday."

I'd believed him completely.

I'd walked away from my beloved career, poured my pastry competition winnings into propping up his struggling business, and convinced myself marriage and family meant mutual sacrifice.

The truth finally settled over me.

A man who truly loved me would never take my selfless sacrifices for granted.

He would never wear me down until I lost every piece of my original self.

After hearing the full details of my marriage and situation, my attorney spoke with unvarnished honesty, "Securing full custody of your daughter will be extremely difficult, given their far superior financial standing.

"As for marital assets, your name is not on the apartment, vehicle, or company shares. To win a fair settlement, you need concrete evidence proving your financial contributions to his business in its early founding days."

Sweat dampened my palm as I clutched my phone tightly.

"What if I have no such evidence?" I asked.

The attorney paused briefly before replying, "You will be placed at a severe legal disadvantage."

Ending the call, I locked myself in the hotel bathroom for a long time.

Staring back at me in the mirror was a disheveled woman with sunken eyes and a deathly pale complexion.

At thirty-one, after seven years of marriage, my only skills lay in baking, childcare, and tending to a demanding household. I had no immediate marketable talents to land a well-paying job.

Raw, overwhelming fear washed over me.

Yet Lily still slept soundly beside me, small fingers curled around the blanket, faint tear tracks lingering on her eyelashes.

I could not afford to break down.

I began sending out resumes relentlessly. To hotel bakery kitchens, high-end dessert chains, private pastry studios, and professional baking academies.

Every role tied to my craft received an application without a second thought.

Most applications faded into silence with no reply.

Occasional interview invitations arrived, but the moment hiring managers learned of my five-year career gap and young daughter, their expressions shifted to quiet dismissal.

"Your award-winning pastry credentials are impressive, but you've been out of the industry far too long. Your techniques and grasp of current market trends are likely outdated."

"Our workload is rigorous, with frequent overtime. With a child to care for, your attendance reliability won't fit our team's needs."

"If you don't have someone to look after your kid, you might end up taking a lot of time off, and that could affect the team."

I always nodded and smiled politely, acknowledging their concerns.

Only after stepping outside each interview venue would I let the false smile fade from my face.

One afternoon after my final interview of the day, I stood alone at the subway entrance, adrift and lost amid the bustling crowd of strangers.

My phone buzzed with endless urgent messages. My temporary landlord pressed for the month's rent and security deposit.

My attorney messaged to ask if I'd compiled any early business transfer records as evidence.

Lily's preschool teacher notified me that my daughter had grown quiet and distracted in class lately.

Surrounded by rushing crowds and endless noise, I suddenly felt cornered by life itself, teetering on the edge of a cliff with nowhere left to run.

One misstep, and there would be nothing but empty air beneath my feet.

When my phone started ringing, I felt too drained to even pick it up.

The caller ID displayed an unfamiliar number with no attached name. I tapped the accept button.