Chapter 1

My father was dying.

There was no time to waste.

Every flight and express-train seat to Meadowridge was sold out that day.

The only remaining option was a last-minute business-class airline ticket costing twelve hundred dollars.

My wife, Marissa Langley, a corporate president earning eight figures a year, frowned at the price.

"Do you know what that much money means to this family?"

"You're a stay-at-home husband who gets to live comfortably while I work. You never think about how hard I earn our money."

Then she froze my cards.

She took my phone.

She kept my driver's license so I couldn't buy the ticket.

Because of her, I missed my father's final moments completely.

After the funeral, I saw a social-media post showing her celebrating the birthday of Tyler Beckett, the college intern in her department.

The cheapest present she gave him was a custom Velvet Swan cake that cost thirty-three hundred dollars.

Chapter 1

I was sitting on a bench outside the funeral home.

Almost absently, I liked the birthday post on social media.

Then I left a comment: "Happy birthday."

Less than a minute after I posted it, my wife, Marissa Langley, who had rejected more than thirty of my calls, suddenly called me herself.

I answered on instinct.

The first thing I heard was an accusation.

"What is that passive-aggressive comment supposed to mean? You scared a college graduate so badly he's talking about quitting. Apologize to Tyler right now, or we're getting divorced."

We had been married for seven years.

Marissa had threatened divorce more often than she had shown me affection.

It was her go-to tactic to threaten me.

And every time, I surrendered immediately.

Then I apologized like a man with no pride at all.

Little by little, I pushed my own boundaries farther back.

I had always believed that a marriage beginning when we were young was too precious to throw away.

Besides, we had a child.

The thought of my son made the "Fine" that was about to leave my mouth stall again.

Then, I heard Noah Langley's young voice through the phone.

"Mom, why are you wasting time talking to that useless idiot? Come cut Tyler's cake with us. Then let's buy him the newest gaming computer. He promised to play Dragonfall with me tonight."

"All right, sweetheart. Mommy's coming."

The call ended.

The dial tone echoed hollowly in my ear.

When I checked the post again, Marissa had blocked me from viewing her social feed entirely.

A laugh burst out of me.

Then, while I was still laughing, tears began to fall.

My mother had called me the afternoon before yesterday.

She said my father had suffered a massive brain hemorrhage.

He probably wouldn't survive the night.

I immediately opened a travel app to book a ticket.

Unfortunately, every flight and express-train seat to Meadowridge had sold out.

The only option left was a last-minute business-class airline ticket costing twelve hundred dollars.

I was about to press Purchase when Marissa snatched the phone from my hand.

She demanded an explanation as though I were the one being unreasonable.

"Do you know what twelve hundred dollars means to this family? You stay home all day living off me and never think about how hard I work for every dollar.

"You're not a doctor. Even if you get there early, if your father’s time is up, he’s going to die regardless. I don't earn money so you can drain me dry."

When she finished, she took my phone and my driver's license.

She snapped my credit card in half.

Only after making sure I had no practical way to pay for the ticket did she leave in a good mood.

She didn't come home that night.

The next morning, she finally sent her secretary to return my phone along with the cheapest and slowest bus ticket back to my hometown.

The dead phone showed more than a thousand missed-call alerts from my mother.

She had called almost every minute.

Chapter 2

My hands shook as I called back, but no one answered anymore.

I endured thirteen miserable hours on the overnight bus.

When I finally reached the hospital, I saw my father's body being wheeled from his room beneath a white sheet.

My mother had collapsed sobbing in my aunt's arms.

When she saw me arrive exhausted and filthy, she slapped me across the face and wailed, "Why did you only come now? Why? Do you know how much your father suffered waiting for you?"

My cheek burned.

I pushed through the people around the stretcher.

I lifted the sheet.

The twisted pain still visible on my father's face made my heart feel crushed in a fist.

One of the nurses moving him told me that several of his ribs had been fractured.

In his final agitation, he had deliberately broken his own ribs, desperately trying to stay conscious long enough for me to arrive.

But he eventually ran out of strength.

In the end, the son he had been waiting for never reached him in time.

At the funeral, I called Marissa more than thirty times.

Every call was rejected or ignored.

After the burial, my mother broke down and told me to get out.

If I had chosen to center my whole life around my wife and live under her roof, then from that day forward, she said she no longer had a son.

As the son nobody in my family wanted anymore, I quietly lit one final memorial candle for my father and boarded the bus back to Falconridge.

On the way, I messaged Graham Talbot, an attorney I hadn't spoken to in years.

"When you have time, help me prepare a divorce agreement."

After I sent the message, his status showed that he was typing.

A very long time passed before his reply finally came, only one word.

"Okay."

Another thirteen hours on the bus.

The moment I entered the house, I saw Marissa's intern, Tyler Beckett, holding Noah on his lap while they watched cartoons on the couch.

Marissa, who almost never cooked, hurried out of the kitchen carrying a spatula.

A peeled shrimp rested on the end.

She carefully blew on it before offering it toward Tyler. "Tyler, try this. Tell me if it's good."

Tyler bit into the shrimp and chewed with exaggerated appreciation.

Then he gave Marissa a bright smile and a thumbs-up. "Ms. Langley, you're an amazing cook."

Noah sat on Tyler's lap, clapping and tilting his head back.

"Mommy, I want one too. Me too."

The scene was so warm and easy that it could have been a stock photo of the perfect American family.

I had already rolled my suitcase into the bedroom before the three of them seemed to realize a fourth person had entered the house.

By the time I packed what I actually needed and came back out, their smiles were gone. They stood facing me as though preparing for battle.

Noah crossed his arms and pouted. "You worthless loser, why’d you have to come back now? You ruined everything."

Tyler approached with a friendly smile and slipped an arm around my shoulders.

"Adrian, don't misunderstand.

"You were gone for several days, and I worried Ms. Langley and Noah might be nervous alone, so I came by to help."

I smiled and patted the back of his hand. "Thank you. That must have been exhausting."

There was no anger, no accusation, and no order for him to leave.

My tone was warm and completely sincere.

Marissa reacted as though I had threatened him. She yanked Tyler behind her protectively.

"Adrian, who taught you to talk like that? Why are you suddenly so sarcastic? You disappear for days, and if Tyler hadn't come over, this whole house would have fallen apart."

I ignored Marissa's overreaction.

Instead, I kept smiling at Tyler behind her.

Chapter 3

"Sorry, Mr. Beckett. Looks like I'll be leaving this family in your hands from now on."

The words had barely left my mouth when Marissa finally noticed the large suitcase beside me.

She shoved it over irritably and rolled her eyes.

"What now? Where do you think you're going? Your father is fine, isn't he? Why are you running around again? Can you use your brain for once instead of losing control of your emotions and running off every time your mother says something? Even a bus ticket costs money.

"And what about that comment you left on Tyler's birthday post? You think because Tyler was generous enough not to make an issue of it, I forgot? Apologize to him now."

Maybe I was too calm.

Marissa simply assumed my father had recovered.

I met the eyes of the woman driving another knife into my chest.

I tried to find anger or grief inside myself, but found nothing at all.

So this was what it meant to give up on a relationship completely.

The other person could bring the entire house crashing down in front of you and you still wouldn't care.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Beckett," I said.

Tyler grinned, barely able to conceal the satisfaction in his eyes.

"It's fine. I didn't take it personally. I even saved you some birthday cake."

With that, Tyler hurried to the refrigerator and returned carrying a dessert plate.

When he handed it to me, he deliberately exposed the fifty-thousand-dollar diamond watch on his wrist.

The stones flashed brightly enough to sting my eyes.

I couldn't stop calculating how many emergency airline tickets that one watch could have purchased.

"Adrian, Ms. Langley said you're from a tiny rural town. You've probably never had Velvet Swan cake before.

"Try it. It's nothing like those cheap whipped-frosting cakes."

The cake hadn't been stored properly.

It had sat in the back of the refrigerator for two days.

Dark green mold had already appeared along the cut edge.

Those two obvious spots that no one else seemed to notice felt like they were silently laughing at me.

See?

This family was never poor.

A thirty-three-hundred-dollar cake could spoil untouched and no one cared.

Marissa had never been stingy.

She simply believed I was the kind of dependent husband who belonged on the cheapest overnight bus while everyone else lived well.

A sudden ache moved through my chest.

The return of feeling made my eyes redden.

I forced down the bitterness and said quietly, "Sorry. I don't like sweets. I have somewhere to be, so I'm leaving."

I had taken only one step with the suitcase when, without warning, Noah grabbed a handful of cake and smeared it hard across my face.

"Why are you such an ungrateful loser? Tyler saved this cake for you. Why won't you eat it?"

I had cared for Noah from the day he was born.

He had severe allergies and had been an unusually high-needs baby.

Marissa chose not to breastfeed because she didn't want the physical demands of it.

For his first six months, he was almost constantly in my arms.

I gave up a promising career to care for him.

Years of lifting and sleepless nights left permanent damage in my arm and lower back.

Whenever the weather turned cold and wet, the pain could become unbearable.

Noah had always been physically fragile.

During spring and fall, he developed coughing and wheezing; in summer, stomach problems were common.

In winter, if he became chilled, he was prone to respiratory infections and sometimes pneumonia.

I stayed beside him night and day until exhaustion made me pale and worn down.

Marissa told him instead that I deliberately let him get sick because I wanted her attention.

After that, the little boy who once saw only his father disappeared.

In his place grew a stranger who looked at me with hostility and contempt.

Chapter 4

I used to tell myself that children eventually grew up.

Once Noah was older, he would understand how much I had sacrificed for him.

Now I understood there was no arguing with what a mother and her son decided between themselves.

In the end, Noah had become like Marissa.

He believed only what he wanted to believe.

Sticky frosting covered my entire face.

Tyler gave a startled cry and rushed forward with a handkerchief.

"Adrian, I'm sorry. I never thought Noah would do that. I should have watched him. Here, let me wipe it off."

Something had been smeared onto the handkerchief Tyler pressed against my face.

The instant it touched my skin, a stabbing, burning itch tore through me.

Tyler's supposedly gentle hand was using far more force than necessary.

Every pass made the burning worse.

He kept pressing the frosting and whatever was on the cloth into my nose and mouth.

Panic exploded through me as I struggled to breathe.

Instinct made me shove him away.

Something hit the floor with a heavy thud.

With my eyes squeezed shut, I had no idea what had struck what.

All I knew was that the next second, a vicious kick landed square in my groin.

"Adrian, you useless bastard. Tyler was trying to help you. Why did you shove him? Have I been too nice to you lately?"

I staggered backward and fell.

Every desperate breath pulled frosting deeper toward my airway.

I gagged so hard my whole body shook.

When I tried to move, the burning in my eyes made it impossible to see where I was going.

I reached out, trying to find something solid enough to pull myself up.

Small feet, far stronger than they had any right to be, started kicking the lower back I had wrecked through years of caregiving.

"Useless loser. I'll beat you up. You hurt Tyler. I'll beat you."

"Ms. Langley, stop Noah. I'm fine, I didn't hit anything... Ow. My foot suddenly hurts."

Tyler's false, wounded voice floated above me.

"Fine? Adrian is stronger than you think. I saw you hit your foot. What if there's a fracture?

"No. We're going to the hospital."

It sounded as though Marissa helped Tyler to his feet.

They stepped over me in their rush to leave, and someone's shoe came down across my fingers.

A cry escaped me before I jerked my hand away.

Noah spat directly onto my face. "Gross. You pushed Tyler and now you're pretending you're hurt? If anything happens to him, I'll never call you Dad again."

"Exactly. If Tyler is seriously hurt, don't expect to stay in this house."

The front door slammed.

The living room became silent.

Then I heard it.

A faint hiss was coming from the kitchen stove, which hadn't been shut off properly.

Frosting and an unknown chemical still covered my eyes.

I stumbled upright and tried to reach the kitchen so I could stop the leak.

Instead, I tripped over the broken dessert plate and crashed to the floor.

Slowly, the sulfur smell of the leaking gas and the fumes off the unventilated burner overwhelmed me.

Through the haze, I thought I saw my father.

A strange happiness rose inside me. "Dad, did you come to get me? Please take me with you."

He shook his head.

Then he gently placed my phone into my hand. The 911 call had already been connected.