Chapter 3
That evening, Millie didn’t bring up her birthday again, nor did she mention Owen.
She became unusually quiet, often sitting alone at the table, sketching.
Seeing the family portrait missing someone crucial, my heart felt like it was being squeezed by an enormous hand, making it hard to breathe.
The next day, I went to the department store to pick up clothes for my boss. As I was about to leave, I spotted someone familiar in the jewelry store across the way.
I froze, unable to move.
Through the glass, I watched Owen pick up a necklace and help Azari try it on.
In the end, he bought the pricey necklace, and I couldn’t help but remember how, over the years, the only gift he’d ever given me was a pair of ten-dollar earrings from a roadside stand.
He’d promised back then, once he had the money, he would buy me the nicest gifts.
Watching him walk away with Azari, I felt compelled to follow, wanting to confront Owen about why he treated Millie and me this way.
Before I could catch up, I saw Owen head into a children’s art center.
My heart started pounding.
Millie had a knack for drawing, but we could never afford proper lessons.
A hopeful thought crossed my mind—could Owen be asking about an art class for Millie?
Was he feeling remorse and trying to make things right for her?
That evening when Owen came home, I hesitated several times but decided not to ask.
If he had enrolled Millie in an art class, he would let us know.
The next morning, while Millie and I were watching TV in the living room, the phone rang—a call from a number I didn’t recognize.
"Hello, are you Millie Myers’ parent? You have an appointment for today's trial class. When would you like to come over?"
My hand shook, almost dropping the phone.
A trial class!
Owen had indeed signed Millie up for art lessons.
I tried to keep my voice steady. "Thank you, we'll be there soon."
After hanging up, I embraced a bewildered Millie. "Millie, your dad signed you up for an art class. We can go for a trial today."
Millie’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Really? Did Dad really enroll me in art lessons?"
"Yes, we can go right now."
In that moment, I forgave Owen a little. He cared for Millie, and letting her experience a father's love was enough.
Half an hour later, I arrived at the art school with Millie.
But when I explained who we were, the receptionist looked perplexed.
"Mr. Myers did make a reservation, but it wasn’t for Millie Myers. He and another student are already here."
"You mean, he’s here now?" I asked.
"Yes, just over there."
Following the receptionist’s gaze, the sound of children's laughter made my blood run cold.
Owen was helping that girl, guiding her hands with the brush, while Azari snapped photos nearby, pride all over her face.
Millie clutched my shirt tightly, her face pale, her lips quivering.
"Mom, let’s go."
The repeated blows had pushed Millie to the edge. Not wanting her to see more, I quickly led her away.
On the way home, Millie leaned against me, her tears soaking my clothes.
“Mom, can we just stop having a dad?”
“Alright.” I fought back my emotions and kissed Millie’s cheek.
At that moment, I realized it was long overdue to end things with Owen.
I shouldn’t hold on to any false hope for Millie or let her face disappointment again and again.