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The day Andrew Collins and I got divorced, I was three months pregnant. He was too busy picking up his first love, Jessica Rowe, from the airport to even glance at the divorce agreement before signing it. Nine years later, at the Landon Youth Creative Competition awards dinner, he personally presented the prizes as the event's top sponsor. When the champion stepped onto the stage, he froze, staring at a face that could've been a mirror image of his own. His hand almost slipped, dropping the trophy right then and there. I stood in the corner with a glass of champagne and smiled. Nine years ago, Andrew said I was nothing but trouble. Tonight, I'd like to see how he handled this gift.