Chapter 2

The moment our son said those words, both Evan Harrison and I froze.

During the 28 days since I discovered Evan's heart wasn't with our family anymore, every time he abandoned me and our son because of Vivian White, I would have our son call him "uncle."

To remind both myself and our son not to be hurt by someone who wasn't worth it.

But our son didn't see it that way.

He was only seven years old, at the age when he needed his father most.

Every time I asked him to say "uncle," he would hesitate for a long time before quietly calling out the word.

But today, he said it on his own.

He said it smoothly and naturally, as if he'd rehearsed the word countless times in his heart.

Seeing us both stunned, our son took my hand and said to Evan:

"Uncle, you go ahead."

Then he looked at me.

"Mom, let's go. We're going to be late for our appointment."

He pulled me along, step by step toward the photo studio.

The family photo session was something Evan had suggested to make up for missing our son's school event.

Our son had been looking forward to it for half a month.

I stiffly followed him, my heart feeling like it was being crushed by a stone, the suffocating pressure making me want to cry.

I discovered Evan's affair by accident.

He went to celebrate Vivian's child's birthday, and when he came back, he forgot about the tickets in his pocket.

Three tickets to Universal Studios.

For our son's sixth birthday, he wished for the whole family to go to Universal Studios together to see his favorite Minions.

Evan thought it was childish and rejected the idea without hesitation.

A few days later, though, he went with Vivian's child.

I found Vivian's Instagram post on Evan's phone.

[The most magical place should be visited with the best dad.]

The photo showed Evan and Vivian holding a child—a picture of the three of them together.

Vivian was his first love, divorced with a child.

That night, we had our most explosive fight.

I insisted on divorce and taking our child with me.

Evan accused me of being unreasonable.

He asked how I could bear to let our child grow up without a father.

He swore to God that he only felt sympathy for Vivian.

Looking at our son's obviously frightened face, I bit my lip until it nearly bled.

I knew that if I forced our son to leave with me, he would never forget Evan.

But I also knew that if it happened once, it would happen a second time, a third time.

I didn't want my child to suffer because of his so-called sympathy.

So I chose another approach—I tricked Evan into signing divorce papers.

Thirty days until the divorce became official.

During those 30 days, if Evan came to his senses, I would pretend nothing had happened for our son's sake.

If not, I would spend those 30 days doing everything I could to help our son become "desensitized."

Today was day 28.

Our son had called Evan "uncle" on his own.

I felt our son's slightly trembling body, but I wasn't happy. It felt like a thousand needles piercing my heart.

As we crossed the street, Evan finally snapped out of it.

He took a few steps after us, wanting to ask our son what was going on, when Vivian called again, still with that delicate sobbing voice:

"Evan, where are you? Tanner keeps crying and saying he wants his daddy. I can't calm him down."

Evan's steps halted. He stared at our backs, phone in hand, and replied:

"Okay, I know. I'll be right there."

After hanging up, he sent me a text saying "Let's talk tonight," then turned and left without hesitation.

The roar of a car engine started up, then faded into the distance.

Our son stopped walking and buried himself in my arms, his tears soaking my clothes.

"Mom."

"Can we not have Dad anymore?"