Chapter 2
In the early hours of the morning, David finally returned my missed calls.
"Why have you called me nonstop?" he asked impatiently.
The crash of ocean waves and a little girl's giggles came through the receiver.
"Daddy, I wanna play more!"
David lowered his voice sharply.
"You hear that? She's having fun. Don't ruin this for us."
I stared at Sophie's arms wrapped in bandages.
"David. You locked your own daughter inside the house to celebrate another woman's kid's birthday?" I demanded.
"I asked our neighbor to check on her," he replied.
"Our neighbor only stopped by once," I shot back indignantly.
He fell silent for a beat, his tone turning icier.
"So what? Go complain to the neighbor if you're upset. He failed to do what I asked of him!
"Besides, Sophie's alive and well now. Why do you still fixate on such a tiny incident?"
My heart turned ice-cold. I had no energy left to yell at him.
When I stayed quiet, he seemed to relax a little.
"That's more like it. Married couples can't blow every small thing out of proportion.
"Emily and her daughter rarely get to travel. I'll head back tomorrow afternoon."
With that, he hung up. I stared at the call log on my screen.
We'd known each other for twelve years and married for seven.
He'd nearly let our daughter die alone, and he thought it was only a trivial matter.
I leaned down and stroked Sophie's hair gently.
"Mommy will find us a lawyer tomorrow."
David didn't show up at the hospital until the next afternoon.
He wore a crisp, ironed dress shirt and carried a plush teddy bear in one hand.
The moment the nurse walked in, he hurried straight to Sophie's hospital bed.
"Hey, sweetie, Daddy's here."
Sophie scrambled to hide behind me.
His outstretched hand froze mid-air.
The nurse frowned deeply.
"She's terrified of you right now. Don't get too close," she said.
David pulled his hand back, forcing a stiff smile.
"She's just sulking," he said dismissively.
The nurse ignored him, checked the IV line, and left the room.
As soon as the door clicked shut, David tossed the teddy bear onto a chair.
"What did you say to Sophie, Claire?" he snapped sharply.
"I told her you were celebrating the other girl's birthday."
Sophie's soft voice piped out from behind me.
David's face darkened instantly.
"What the other girl? That's Emily's daughter.
"You only stayed home a few days by yourself. How'd you end up hospitalized over this?"
Sophie hung her head low.
I stepped in front of her to shield her.
"She came down with pneumonia from the fever, suffered severe scalds on her arms, and split her head open too.
"David, why don't you ask her if she hurts first?"
He glanced dismissively at the wrapped bandages.
"The doctor's already treated everything. What's there to make a fuss over?
"Claire, I just got off a flight. Don't pick a fight with me right now."
I held my phone screen up to his face and played the surveillance clip.
It showed Sophie dropping to her knees screaming after the boiling water burned her arms.
David's face drained of all color.
Then he lunged forward to snatch my phone away.
"You put security cameras inside our house?" he snapped.
I pulled it back out of his grasp firmly.
"The cameras have always been here," I said.
"So you were watching me the whole time?" David shot back, his tone sharp.
"Are you afraid I'd find out that you didn't come back for three days?"
He jabbed a finger toward me, raising his voice sharply.
"What's the matter with you, Claire?
"You don't even trust me. No wonder I never want to come home anymore."
Sophie flinched on the hospital bed.
I lowered my voice.
"Let's take it outside."
Out in the hallway, David roughly shook my hand off his arm.
"Emily just got divorced, and her daughter has no father figure. What's wrong with me taking them on a trip to cheer them up?" David said, sounding defensive.
"Your own daughter has a father, yet she nearly died alone at home," I snapped back.
"Don't throw the word 'death' around to scare me. "
Meanwhile, he tugged at his collar, filled with impatience.
"You weren't this unreasonable before.
"But since you quit your job years ago, all you do now is fuss over the kid, your mind filled with nothing but petty stuff."
I stared straight at him.
Before we got married, I'd been the youngest creative director at an advertising agency.
When Sophie was born, he'd held me tight and told me that our daughter needed her mother's full care, promising he'd provide for the whole family.
I'd believed him.
I turned down promotions, rejected major client projects, and gave up every career opportunity I'd worked so hard for.
Now all that sacrifice amounted to nothing more than proof I was useless in his eyes.
"David, I want a divorce," I said.
He froze for a moment, then let out a mocking laugh.
"Can you afford the consequences?
"The house is under my name, and the company is mine. You haven't worked in years. You can't even support yourself.
"How will you raise Sophie?"
I said nothing more.
He expected me to back down just like I always had before after a few harsh words.
Then he pulled out his phone, stood in the hospital doorway, and snapped a photo of the ward.
Minutes later, I saw his new social media post pop up on my feed.
[Flew straight to the hospital right after my business trip. Being a father means bearing every hardship no matter what.]
The comment section flooded with sympathetic messages.
Someone asked how Sophie had gotten hurt.
David replied directly: [Her mom's emotionally unstable and can never take good care of her.]
My fingers went rigid against the screen.
Sophie had woken up and watched me scroll through the post.
"Mommy, did Daddy blame you again?"
I locked the phone screen.
"What do you mean 'again'?" I asked.
She glanced up at me cautiously.
"The last time I fell and hurt myself, Daddy told my teacher it was your fault for not watching me.
"But you were out of town that day. Daddy was the one who picked me up from school."
I studied her evasive, timid gaze.
"What else did he say?" I asked.
"Daddy says you have a terrible temper.
"And everyone will find out eventually," Sophie continued.