Chapter 3

A little after seven the next morning, Miles called on video.

The screen shook for a second.

Then I saw the ocean.

He was sitting on the balcony of the ocean-view suite I had booked. Two lounge chairs stood beside the glass doors. The breakfast basket I had paid for sat on the table.

His hair was still wet.

“Let me talk to Poppy.”

I was in the kitchen, putting her lunch into her backpack.

“She’s brushing her teeth.”

“Then wait until she’s done. I want to explain.”

“Explain what?”

Miles paused.

“The trip. She wouldn’t take my call last night.”

I thought of Poppy falling asleep with her sun hat clenched in her hand.

“She didn’t want to talk. You can try again later.”

“Lena, don’t let her think I don’t want her.”

“I haven’t told her that.”

“Then what did you tell her?”

I looked at the ocean behind him.

Claire crossed behind the camera in a white cover-up, carrying two cups of coffee. She did not look toward the screen. She set one beside Miles’s hand.

He picked it up as if she had nothing to do with the call.

“I know you’re angry,” he said. “You can’t drag Poppy into this. She already missed the trip. Don’t make her think Claire is the enemy.”

I zipped Poppy’s backpack.

“Poppy doesn’t have an enemy.”

“Then why did you take her home yesterday afternoon?”

“Because you brought Claire on our family vacation and expected me to act like it was fine.”

“I wanted her to get away for a few days.”

“You bought her ticket six weeks ago.”

His expression tightened.

“You went through my things?”

“I looked at the shared calendar and public posts.”

“Now you’re digging into this?”

“I didn’t go looking,” I said. “You put it all where I could see it.”

He set down his coffee. His voice changed.

“Claire isn’t the problem. The way you’re acting is going to make Poppy feel like she can’t like someone who’s good to her.”

I did not take the bait.

If I started explaining that Claire was not Poppy’s enemy, Miles would turn this into a question of whether I was generous enough. I had never asked Poppy to dislike anyone.

I was refusing to let him use our daughter to make his affair easier to live with.

“I have two things to say,” I told him.

Miles leaned back in his chair.

“More rules?”

“First, Claire will not be involved in Poppy’s school pickup, school communication, or overnight care. She will not contact teachers for us, and she will not be alone with Poppy.”

“She hasn’t done any of that.”

“Then it shouldn’t be hard to avoid.”

He did not answer right away.

A breeze moved across the balcony. Claire went inside and slid the glass door shut behind her.

“Second,” I said, “when you get home, we need to talk about separating and about Poppy’s schedule. Until then, anything about her comes through you and me.”

Miles gave a short laugh.

“Separating? Over one vacation?”

“Because you brought Claire into a life that belonged to the three of us, then expected me to explain to Poppy why that was normal.”

“You’re punishing her.” His voice sharpened. “You took away her vacation, and now you want to decide who gets to be around her.”

“You can take her on vacation,” I said. “You did not need to bring Claire to replace me.”

He stared at the screen.

“You really think you can push me out of Poppy’s life?”

“I’m not trying to.”

I set my phone on the counter and picked up Poppy’s water bottle.

“I’m saying you can’t be her father while asking Claire to play a role she has no right to play.”

Poppy came down the hallway with damp hair.

“Mom, I can’t find my purple clip.”

I muted the call and turned to help her look.

When I picked up my phone again, Miles had ended the call.

His last message was still on the screen.

You are making this harder than it has to be.

I did not reply.

After I dropped Poppy at school, I came home and copied her class schedule, pickup details, and next month’s dentist appointment into a new notebook.

Then I opened my computer and made a new folder.

It held only two things.

Poppy’s schedule.

And the information for our joint accounts and the house.

Miles expected me to wait for him to come home, then put our life back in order the way I always had.

This time, I didn’t.