"Gavin Reynolds, I want a divorce." Gavin and I were practically raised together. Our grandpas were obsessed with the idea of marrying us off, but both families only had sons, so they pinned their hopes on Gavin and me. We went through school together. I watched him fall head-over-heels for Tiffany Wilson, then watched her dump him to jet off to Europe. I crushed on him from the time I was sixteen until we finally got together at nineteen, got secretly hitched at twenty-four, and had our daughter at twenty-six. Now our little girl's five – that's fifteen years total. Through those fifteen years, from a stupid cold to the moment my water broke and I was rushing to the hospital to give birth, I never dared to bother him. He was a big star, and we were in a hush-hush marriage, so I walked on eggshells, afraid of screwing up his image or his career. And now, after all this time, the one time I ever humbled myself and asked him for a favor, he turned a deaf ear and blew me off. Fifteen years. I poured my best years into this. Fifteen years. I was naive enough to think he'd gotten over Tiffany Wilson. Fifteen years. I thought if I just kept at it, things would eventually work out. But I was wrong. So, so wrong. Because of my sappy, pathetic delusions, my daughter lost her life. She has every right to hate me. To hate having a mother like me. "Divorce? Summer, you can't be serious. You'd give up on us? If you're thinking about leaving, you're not getting custody of our daughter!" The sneer on his face, the nasty glint in his eyes. Hearing him say "daughter" just twisted the knife. "Just play nice, okay? I've already found a specialist who thinks they can help her." I blocked him out. My daughter deserves better than to be anywhere near him. 2. I spun around, marched back into the house, grabbed our marriage license and my driver's license, and stormed back out. "Today. We're doing this today. We're getting divorced." He scowled at the documents in my hand. "You're really doing this?" I looked right at him, my throat tight. "Gavin, in all these years, have I ever hassled you about anything stupid or petty?" Gavin's expression flickered. "No." I tried to smile, but my eyes started to burn. "This is the only time... the only damn time..." "Were you even going to meet with those investors?" Maybe he finally felt a twinge of guilt. He was silent for a long, long time before admitting, "I messed up, okay? If you need anything from now on, you just ask. I promise I won't let you down." "Gavin, fifteen years. It's the first time I've ever heard you say you're sorry. But I can never forgive you. Never." He started to say something, but his phone rang. He snatched it up and hurried away, without another glance back at me. No sooner had he left than my phone rang. It was the cemetery. "Ms. Summers, we've got a situation here. Some crazy woman came to the cemetery and dug up your daughter's grave. We've called the cops." I was shaking so hard I could barely breathe. I jumped in a cab and told the driver to step on it. Cemetery staff were waiting for me at the entrance and were full of apologies. "We are so sorry, Ms. Summers. We screwed up. She said she wanted to buy a plot and wanted to look around. We never thought she'd just go and dig it up! We're so sorry!" "Where is she?" "Still out at the gravesite. The cops are there, waiting for you to sort things out." I followed the staff at a dead run. I could see them in the distance – Tiffany Wilson sobbing and Gavin Reynolds patting her back. The cops and the cemetery workers looked like they couldn't believe what they were seeing. "Ms. Summers, that's her." I was trembling from head to toe. I clenched my fists and charged right in, slapping Tiffany Wilson across the face, hard. I went to hit her again, but a cop grabbed my arm. Tiffany Wilson was dazed by the blow. Before she could even open her mouth, Gavin Reynolds was in my face. 3. "Summer, were you stalking me?" "Have you lost your damn mind? You can't just go around hitting people!" Tiffany Wilson, whimpering, clung to Gavin Reynolds. "Summer, you've got it all wrong. I just got back from overseas, and our 'baby' was really sick. So I asked Gavin to come say goodbye." "Today, I was trying to find a nice spot for 'baby', but they wouldn't let me have the one I wanted. These lunatics even tried to attack me, so I had to call Gavin." I knew exactly who "baby" was. It was their dog. The dog they raised together. It hit me like a ton of bricks. He could make time to see a dying dog, but he couldn't make time for his own daughter. The cops, figuring we knew each other, let me go. I stared at the torn-up earth, at the little garden I'd made for my daughter, now a complete disaster. My daughter loved flowers, but you couldn't find anything decent this time of year. I'd flown all the way to New York City to get her a wreath made of dozens of different kinds of flowers. She would have loved it. And now it was all gone. I glared at Gavin Reynolds, clenched my jaw, and – my hand practically buzzing – slapped him across the face as hard as I could. "Gavin Reynolds, you are a piece of garbage." The cops grabbed me again, trying to calm me down. "Let's all just take a breath, okay? Mrs. Summers, let's talk about how you want to handle this." Hearing the cop, Gavin Reynolds asked, his voice tight, "You bought this plot?" I didn't answer. The cemetery worker said, "Yes, sir. Ms. Summers bought this plot. You know her?" Gavin Reynolds looked at the cop. "I'm sorry for the trouble, Officer. This is my wife." 4. The police and cemetery staff looked back and forth between us. "Actually, we're still married, technically. But I don't know this woman. I want her to get down on her knees and apologize." "Summer, don't be ridiculous." I laughed, a cold, empty sound. Gavin Reynolds' brow furrowed. "What did you buy this plot for? And why decorate it like this? Who is this for? For our daughter? Summer, how could you be so messed up as to be planning her funeral?" "My daughter, my Gavin Reynolds' daughter, even if she was knocking on death's door, I could pull her back. She doesn't need a gravesite. In fact, it'd be perfect for 'baby'." I listened to his grandstanding and started to laugh, a shaky, hysterical laugh. Tears streamed down my face. I hadn't finished decorating her gravesite. I'd designed the lettering on the headstone myself, but I hadn't had it engraved yet. The picture wasn't up either, so the headstone was still blank. "Officer, we can handle this ourselves. Sorry for the trouble." The cop started to object, but I cut him off. "I know my limits." After the cops left, Gavin Reynolds thought I was backing down. His tone softened. "Look, I'm already working on getting that top-notch surgical team to work on her. They'll be here in a few days." I didn't say a word. I bent down and picked up my daughter's urn, cradling it in my arms. I used my sleeve to carefully wipe off the dust. "Ms. Summers, we'll give you double what you paid. We'd really appreciate you letting us have the space for 'baby'." I raised an eyebrow at Tiffany Wilson. "Who said I agreed? You could offer me the Empire State Building, and it still wouldn't be yours." "Oh, and I almost forgot. Gavin and I aren't divorced yet. You're not Mrs. Reynolds." I looked at Gavin, spitting out every cruel word I could think of. "Gavin Reynolds, you're worse than a dog. At least Tiffany took that dog with her when she left, and she brought it back. Unlike you. I took you in for fifteen years. "But starting today, I don't want you anymore either." 5. "Tiffany Wilson, take your stray dog and get out of here. You're an eyesore." Gavin Reynolds was beet red. His eyes blazed like he wanted to kill me. He grabbed the urn from Tiffany Wilson and stalked over to me, intending to put it back in the ground. "Summer, you're really pushing it. Everything you have, everything you've ever spent, came from me. I paid for this gravesite. Get out of here!" I wasn't expecting it. He shoved me hard, and I went sprawling. The lid flew off the urn, and ashes spilled onto the snow, mixing with the ground. I lay there, numb, desperately trying to scoop the scattered ashes back into the urn. But a gust of wind blew through, and the powdery remains swirled together with the snowflakes. They were gone... Gavin Reynolds' assistant called him. "Mr. Reynolds, I just spoke with the doctor. He said she passed away ten days ago." "I checked, and it was Ms. Summers who made all the arrangements. She had her buried at the Hemsley Cemetery." "What are you talking about?" "That's impossible! She would have called me! She wouldn't do this without me knowing!" The voice on the other end was quiet for a moment. "She did call you. The night she died, she called you, like, a million times. I checked the records. She got through once, but you were with Ms. Wilson. I guess Ms. Wilson answered." I kept scooping up the ashes, one piece at a time, like a robot. Gavin Reynolds went white as a ghost. He stumbled over to me and grabbed my arm. "Summer, let me do it." I jerked my arm away. "You don't deserve to touch her, Gavin!" I screamed, my eyes bloodshot. Gavin Reynolds hugged me tight, his voice shaking. "I'm sorry, Summer. I didn't know... I didn't know..." "Get off me!" He wouldn't let go. I couldn't get free. I leaned down and bit him as hard as I could on the hand. He finally released me, scrambling to gather up my daughter's ashes. "Don't touch her! Don't you dare contaminate her, Gavin!" 6. Gavin Reynolds seemed to realize he'd just been holding the dog's urn. He crouched down and started frantically scrubbing his hands in the snow. He kept saying, "I messed up, Summer, I messed up... I didn't know." I gathered up the remaining ashes, looked up at him. "Tell her to get down here and kneel. Forty-nine times." Gavin Reynolds froze. Tiffany Wilson dropped to her knees, but before she could even bow her head, Gavin Reynolds pulled her up. "Get up. You have bad legs. It's too cold out here. This isn't your fault. You should go home." I watched Gavin Reynolds send Tiffany Wilson away. I felt nothing. I carefully put the urn back in its place, shoveling soil back over it, carefully rearranging the wreath. When I got home, Gavin Reynolds' parents, his brother and sister-in-law, his sister and her husband were all there. His dad walked up to Gavin and slapped him twice across the face. "You animal!" Gavin didn't say a word. Everyone looked at me with pity. I knew I was a mess, but nothing compared to my daughter out there in the snow. His mom walked over, took my hand, and pulled me close. "Honey, why didn't you tell us about this? He's an idiot, but we're here for you. You shouldn't have to go through this alone!" I didn't say anything. My mind was blank. The snow on my hands melted, mixing with the dirt. His mom saw my hands, covered in mud. "What were you doing out there?" I looked at her, my voice flat. "Tiffany Wilson dug up Annie's grave. Gavin wanted me to let her bury her dog there. I was just taking care of things." His mom stopped cold. His brother and sister-in-law, his sister and her husband exchanged stunned looks at Gavin. I didn't care what anyone thought. I turned back to Gavin. "Let's go. The county clerk's office isn't closed yet. Gavin, we're getting a divorce." I had to get away. And they were going to pay for what they did.
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