Chapter 2
2
She looked at me in absolute shock, as if she hadn't heard me clearly.
"Excuse me?"
"I said, I want a divorce." I held her gaze. "Take the guest room."
Outside the window, a firework exploded, illuminating her stunned face.
"Over one missed Christmas Eve? Ethan, are you out of your mind?"
I didn't answer. I just turned and walked into the master bedroom.
After I shut the door, I heard her yell from the living room:
"What is wrong with you?! Can't you be reasonable for once?!"
I pushed open the door to the nursery.
Lucas was fast asleep, his tiny hands gripping the edge of his blanket, his breathing shallow.
I sat on the edge of his bed and gently stroked his soft hair, my voice barely a whisper.
"Luke, it's just going to be the two of us from now on."
The Ethan Parker who believed in her died tonight.
It was raining in Seattle the morning of the follow-up appointment.
After breakfast, Victoria's door was still shut. I knocked.
"Leaving at eight."
No response.
At 7:50, I carried Lucas out the door.
In the elevator, my phone buzzed.
A text from Victoria:
[Something came up. Need an Uber?]
I stared at the screen, remembering Lucas's first hospitalization.
Back then, she took a week off work in advance, so nervous she practically crumpled his medical charts in her hands.
When the doctor said, "His condition is stable," her eyes immediately welled up with tears.
Walking out of the hospital, she hugged me fiercely in the parking lot.
"He's going to be okay, Ethan!"
Back then, her phone was on twenty-four hours a day.
If I said Lucas and I were craving chicken noodle soup from that legacy spot on the Eastside, she would drive an hour just to get it.
Now, all she had to say was, "Something came up."
I replied: [No need. I'm driving.]
The pediatric clinic at Seattle Children's Hospital was packed.
It was flu season, and the waiting area was overflowing with anxious parents and coughing kids.
The check-up went smoothly.
The doctor smiled as he reviewed the chart. "Lucas is doing great lately. Keep doing what you're doing."
I looked at my son's pale little face, a lump forming in my throat.
This was my child.
Mine alone.
"Next time we do an echo," the doctor advised, "it would be best if your wife came along, too."
I nodded, but in my head, I was wondering: By the time his next check-up rolls around, what stage will our divorce settlement be at?
After leaving the exam room, I went to the pharmacy to pick up his meds.
While waiting in line, I suddenly spotted a familiar figure.
Victoria.
She was walking from the direction of the ER, carrying a three-or-four-year-old boy.
Daniel was walking right beside her. The little boy, his face flushed with fever, was leaning heavily against Victoria's chest.
She was looking down, whispering something to him, her expression incredibly gentle.
They didn't see me.
I stood frozen in place. The bag of medication in my hand suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.
She wasn't too busy to come to the hospital today. She just wasn't here for me and Lucas.
"Ethan?" Victoria suddenly turned her head. When she saw me, the color drained from her face.
She quickly handed the boy to Daniel and hurried over to me.
She glanced at the pharmacy bag.
"Is Lucas done with his check-up?"
"Yeah."
"Ethan, I didn't mean to blow you off. It's just—"
The little boy suddenly started wailing.
"Victoria! I don't feel good..."
Daniel walked over, holding Noah.
"Vic, he wants you."
Victoria stood between us, completely torn.
Looking at the absolute absurdity of the situation, I actually let out a laugh.
"Go. Your priority is right there."
"Ethan, Noah suddenly spiked a high fever and passed out. Daniel couldn't handle it alone, so I had to..."
"Vic! He's throwing up!" Daniel shrieked.
The kid had vomited all over himself, ruining Victoria's coat in the process.
Instinctively, she turned her back to me to tend to Daniel's child.
I turned and walked away.
"Ethan!" she called out behind me.
I didn't look back.
Right before the elevator doors closed, I saw her rushing toward the restroom with Noah in her arms, Daniel trailing right behind her, one hand resting on her arm.
They looked exactly like a family.
In the car, Lucas asked quietly, "Daddy, does Mommy not want us anymore?"
I gripped the steering wheel, my hands shaking.
It wasn't anger. It was ice-cold clarity.
My phone buzzed again. A text from Victoria:
[Noah isn't doing well. I'll be home late.]
Expressionless, I typed:
[Victoria, when you get back, we're talking divorce.]
My finger hovered over the send button. I deleted the sentence and typed a new one:
[Don't bother coming back.]
Send.
Then, I opened my contacts and found the number for Claire Bennett, a ruthless family law attorney.
"Claire. It's Ethan Parker."
"I need to file for divorce."