Chapter 1
1.
My husband doesn't love me. He loves our daughter even less.
In the six years since she was born, he has never once held her.
The doctors called it an emotional detachment disorder—that he simply didn't know how to process or express affection.
But the day his ex-lover returned, Adrian smiled. He even brought a gift home for a child.
I thought he was finally learning how to be a father.
Until my daughter and I saw the lock screen on his phone.
In the photo, he was holding a toothless little girl, his other hand tightly intertwined with his ex, Vanessa Hart.
Lily grabbed my hand, her eyes rimmed with red.
"Mom, is it time for us to leave?"
She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"Can we give Dad three more chances? If he still doesn't want us after that... we'll go."
I gently stroked Lily's hair and nodded.
I set his phone back down, pretending I hadn't seen a thing, but my chest physically ached.
Sighing, I coaxed Lily back to her room.
Because we had agreed to give Adrian three more chances, she kept trying.
On Father's Day, she brought home a handmade gift from her private preschool.
It was a small, hand-painted clay figure.
She looked up at me timidly. "Mom, will Dad like it?"
I looked at the stubborn grime beneath her fingernails and gently washed her hands. Her soft skin was covered in tiny scrapes. I kissed the top of her head.
"He's going to love it."
Lily beamed. The truth was, she wasn't good at arts and crafts. But she had once seen a clay figurine in Adrian's study and assumed he liked them, so she spent weeks practicing at school. She ruined countless lumps of clay before finally making one that looked decent.
That night, Lily sat on the couch, waiting.
Midnight came and went. Adrian still wasn't home.
I was just about to carry her to bed when she stirred.
"Is Dad back?"
I shook my head. "Let Mom tuck you in. I'll wake you up when he gets here."
"No. I have to wait for him."
She refused to sleep, curling into a tight ball on the cushions, nodding off.
Finally, the front door clicked open. Adrian walked in.
Lily instantly jumped off the couch. Holding the little clay figure high above her head with both hands, she trotted over to him.
"Happy Father's Day, Dad!"
Adrian visibly stiffened. He took the gift and offered a rigid, "Thanks."
Lily's eyes lit up. "Do you like it?"
Adrian didn't answer. He carried the figurine straight toward his study.
Lily tried to follow him inside, but he snapped, "How many times do I have to tell you? Keep out of my study."
She flinched, shrinking back. She lowered her head. "I know, Dad."
She peeked up, trying to gauge his mood, only to watch him casually toss her handmade figurine onto his desk like trash.
A second later, he picked up a crooked, braided string knot and carefully, almost reverently, hung it on his bookshelf.
Lily's eyes welled with tears.
"Dad... is that from Chloe?"
Adrian froze, looking caught off guard.
In that instant, Lily understood. She immediately backed out of the doorway.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I'll never go in your study again."
Standing in the hallway, I felt my heart rip down the middle.
Lily was only six. She had already learned to read his moods, to carefully filter her words, all just to keep him around.
Strike one, Adrian. You have two left.
That night, Lily didn't cry. She just asked me one question.
"Mom? You said Dad doesn't know how to love people. So... why does he love Chloe?"
"Will he ever like me the way he likes her?"
Looking into her desperate, hopeful eyes, my throat closed up.
How could I tell her that Vanessa was the first love Adrian never got over, and Chloe was Vanessa's daughter?