Chapter 2
Graham didn't message me until the day after I left.
Come home once you've calmed down.
An hour later, another one.
Ava's really upset. The least you could do is apologize to her.
I looked at my phone and realized, for the first time, that when he said "Ava's really upset," what he usually meant was that Ava had started taking it out on him.
In the past, all he had to do was call me.
I'd go pick her up from school, smooth things over, and get the two of them back at the same dinner table.
This time, I didn't answer.
Around noon, Ava updated her socials.
A photo of her and Margot at a salon, champagne and gift bags on the table.
The caption was one line: finally know what it feels like to be loved by your real mom.
Hundreds of comments underneath.
People congratulating them on being reunited.
People saying blood is thicker than anything.
And people asking where the stepmom who'd raised her for years had gone.
Ava replied: She couldn't handle me loving my real mom more, so she left.
I stared at that line for a few seconds, then put my phone down.
That afternoon, Graham canceled my card on the family account.
The call came right after.
"Where are you staying?"
"None of your business."
"You don't have a job. You don't have your own income. If you're willing to swallow your pride, you're still welcome in this house."
His voice had gone back to its usual calm.
He was always like that.
The second money came up, he figured he had the upper hand.
"Graham, I'm serious. Let's get divorced."
There were two seconds of silence on the other end.
"Over a couple of things Ava said in the heat of the moment?"
"Because you told me, in front of everyone, that in this house I only have responsibilities and no rights."
"Don't make it sound so ugly."
"Then tell me how I should put it."
He didn't answer.
I kept going. "When you need me to drive her around, I'm her mom. When you need me to take care of her, I'm her mom."
"But the second she does something wrong and I hold her to it, I'm an outsider."
"Graham, I quit. This role, I'm done with it."
His tone went cold.
"You'll regret this."
"Maybe."
I hung up.
Twelve years ago, I put my own career on hold.
Not because I couldn't do it anymore. Not because no one needed me.
Just because, back then, Ava wouldn't let a single stranger near her. Every time I tried to leave the house, she'd sit by the door and wait until I came back.
I told myself I'd go back to work once she settled down a little.
Then it was once she adjusted to school.
Once the nightmares stopped.
Once she made it through the worst of being a teenager.
One "once" followed another, and twelve years went by.
Before Ava needed me at home, I had worked in child mental health at the Harbor Center.
Years later, Graham's foundation partnered with the same center for its school programs. He talked about those programs constantly, but never once asked what I had done there.
Graham had probably forgotten that pausing and quitting were never the same thing.
I opened the laptop that had been sitting untouched, collecting dust, for years.
My old inbox had over two thousand unread emails.
The one at the top came from the Harbor Center. The same message had arrived every three months, like clockwork.
The message was always the same.
We're still holding your position for you.
Every other time, I'd deleted it on sight.
This time, I typed two words back.
I'm coming.