Chapter 2

Dinner had gone cold two hours ago.

Micah sat on the hallway rug, staring at the front door.

He hadn't cried since we left the school lobby.

Instead, he waited for the one promise that was supposed to fix today.

Ross had promised to bring home a rare spaceship model.

"It's a reward for trying so hard," his father had signed to him yesterday morning.

The lock finally clicked at ten o'clock.

Ross stepped inside, carrying the faint smell of roasted garlic and wine.

Micah scrambled to his feet.

His small hands signed quickly, looking around his father's legs for a box.

Ross paused, his expression shifting into mild annoyance.

"I was in meetings all evening," he said, loosening his tie.

"I didn't have time to hunt down a toy."

Micah's hands froze in the air.

"It's just plastic, buddy," Ross added, walking past our son. "Don't make a big deal out of it. You need to learn how to handle disappointment."

He didn't notice the way Micah's shoulders collapsed.

Or maybe he just didn't care.

By midnight, the house was silent.

Ross was asleep in our bed, breathing in a steady rhythm.

Walking into the dark kitchen, I picked up his phone to plug it into the charger.

The screen lit up against my palm.

A message notification hovered on the glass.

It was from Priya.

There was a photo attached.

Leo was sitting on his living room floor, smiling brightly.

He was holding the exact spaceship model.

Beneath the photo, Priya's text read: "He hasn't let it go all night. Thank you for being our hero."

The glow of the screen felt like ice against my skin.

Ross hadn't been too busy.

He hadn't forgotten.

He had simply bought the gift to celebrate another woman's son taking my child's place.

A quiet sniffle broke the silence.

Turning around, I found Micah standing in the hallway shadow.

He was rubbing his eyes, unable to sleep.

Leaving the phone on the counter, I knelt on the floor and pulled him against my chest.

[Did Dad forget me?] he signed, his fingers trembling.

My heart tore open.

I forced a smile, lying to protect the father who didn't deserve him.

[The store gave him the wrong box.] I signed back.

Micah nodded slowly, burying his face in my neck.

He didn't argue, accepting the excuse because he so desperately wanted to be loved.

Staring into the dark over my son's head, my grief hardened into resolve.

I didn't wake Ross to scream.

I didn't demand answers.

Instead, I calculated the hours until morning.

At exactly eight o'clock, I was going to call a divorce lawyer.