1 On the drive back from picking my daughter up from her dad's house, she suddenly spoke up. "Mom, you're actually pretty calculating. You dump me there as soon as break starts, and then drag me back the second school begins." I shot her a bewildered look, not understanding why she'd say something like that. My daughter continued, "It’s just like when I was a toddler and the hardest to deal with—you bailed. Then, when I got older and easier to manage, you fought tooth and nail to take me back. You always make sure you get the best end of the deal." When I was pregnant with her, my ex-husband, David, cheated on me. Barely a month after I gave birth, he took my daughter away from me. It was only years later, when his new wife got pregnant, that he finally allowed us to be reunited. I never imagined that, all these years, this was how she saw it. My heart turned to ice. Without a word, I spun the steering wheel around and drove her right back to her dad's house. 2 As my car pulled up to his gated community, I saw David’s SUV pulling out. My daughter excitedly rolled down the window and yelled, "Dad! Dad!" She signaled for me to stop, then hopped out and jogged over to his car. A moment later, she came back. I watched David's SUV drive away. His current wife and their young son were in the car with him. "What did he say?" I asked. My daughter rolled her eyes at me, her tone laced with annoyance. "Dad and Ashley are taking Liam to the community center for a class. I told him you agreed to let me keep staying with him." "Just drop me off here. I can go in by myself." I watched her skip away, dragging her suitcase behind her, feeling like I was in an alternate reality. When David finally returned her to me, she was already four years old. A tiny little thing, she clung to Ashley, refusing to let go. When I forced myself to pick her up and take her away, she cried so hard she could barely breathe. She kept screaming, "Mommy, Daddy, save me!" as if I were some evil kidnapper tearing her away from her real family. For the first few days, she cried herself to sleep and woke up crying. Every single second, she begged to go back to that house. Thankfully, kids are resilient. Their grief comes and goes quickly. Under my meticulous, round-the-clock care, my daughter finally started calling me "Mom." As she grew older, she started to understand the complicated dynamics of our family. She stopped calling Ashley "Mom" and switched to "Aunt Ashley." All these years, terrified of leaving her with any psychological trauma... I never said a single bad word about her father in front of her. I even made sure to drop her off to spend holidays with them. I never expected that in her heart, all of that was just proof of my "calculating" nature. 3 I drove back home alone. Looking at the steak and lobster I had specifically bought to celebrate her coming home, I let out a heavy sigh. Over the years, to make up for the broken home, I never skimped on her clothing, food, or housing. Knowing David had his own new family to worry about, I shouldered 100% of the financial burden of raising her. Thankfully, I had managed to build a relatively successful career for myself. I could afford to spoil my daughter. Realizing I couldn't possibly eat all this food alone, I called my best friend, Sarah. Then, I buried myself in the kitchen, trying to use the physical labor to fend off the crushing depression in my chest. By the time Sarah arrived, I had already whipped up five dishes and a soup. Staring at the mouth-watering steak and lobster bisque on the table, Sarah clicked her tongue in amazement. "I’m telling you, Claire, with your cooking skills, Chloe is one spoiled kid." "Why couldn't you have been my mom? Can I be your daughter instead?" I offered a bitter smile and told her how Chloe would rather stay at David's than come home to me. Hearing this, Sarah slammed her hand hard on the table. "That little brat! Does she really think her dad actually gives a damn about her?" Then, her eyes welled up with tears. "Claire, I’ve watched how much you’ve sacrificed for that kid all these years." "Please don't think this is your fault. She's probably just hitting her rebellious teenage phase." I let out a long, heavy sigh. Over the years, how many incredible career opportunities or great guys had I let slip through my fingers? It wasn't that I didn't want to grab them, but as a single mom, I had to prioritize her stability. Eight years ago, I was almost engaged to my boyfriend at the time. But when I read a line in Chloe's diary that said, "If Mom gets remarried, I will never forgive her for the rest of my life," I resolutely broke things off with him. When it came to Chloe, my conscience was absolutely clear. 4 After seeing Sarah out, I collapsed onto the sofa alone. I had grown so used to having my daughter around; the days without her felt incredibly lonely. I had originally thought I’d be happily bringing her home today. I never expected to have a bucket of ice water dumped over my head instead. I opened Chloe's social media and, unsurprisingly, saw a blank grey line across her profile. She had blocked me from seeing her posts since she was 15. I couldn't see a single thing she shared. It was as if I were some kind of terrifying monster. After thinking about it, I sent her a picture of the steak and lobster. [Hey sweetie, did Dad cook for you? What did you have for dinner tonight?] A little while later, she sent a picture back. I clicked on it. It was a pile of pizza and fried food. [Dad brought me back some leftover pizza. It was good.] Even though I could tell at a glance from the size of the takeout box that it was likely just leftovers from their dinner out. But seeing that she seemed to be in a good mood, I played along. [As long as it’s good, eat up. Mom will make it for you next time.] She didn't reply again. Feeling melancholic, I locked my phone and got up to take out the trash. Walking through the apartment complex, I ran into an old coworker, Brenda. She had witnessed David’s affair and the messy divorce that followed firsthand. She knew all my dirty laundry inside and out. After a few minutes of small talk, she suddenly asked: "Hey, isn't your daughter back yet?" I answered automatically, "No, she's spending the summer at her dad's." "Really? I actually ran into your ex-husband and his family at Six Flags today, but I didn't see your daughter." Six Flags? Weren't they taking the kid to a class at the community center? I forced a dry laugh. "Kids get older, they probably don't want to hang out with the family as much." Brenda nodded knowingly, her eyes filling with a deeper sense of pity. "It’s just a shame you’ve wasted so many years. If you meet someone decent, you really should put yourself out there." Normally, I would have politely but firmly declined. But today, driven by some inexplicable impulse, I actually nodded. "Okay. If you know anyone suitable, feel free to introduce us." 5 I didn't expect Brenda to move so fast. The very next day, she sent me an address. "It's a distant nephew of mine, just moved back from the States. You guys should meet." Afraid I wouldn't go, she quickly added: "He's a great catch. He's been so focused on his career all these years that he never got married. Just treat it like making a new friend." Even though I was already regretting what I'd agreed to yesterday... Since things were already in motion, I went to the restaurant at the agreed-upon time. When I saw the silhouette of the man waiting for me, I almost didn't process it. "Claire?" "Mark?" Looking at the surprised face of the man in front of me, I let out a surprised laugh. Years ago, because Chloe had thrown a massive fit and refused to let me marry Mark. I had initiated a harsh, clean break with him. At the time, he had desperately begged to know why, but I only apologized and refused to see him again. Later, I heard he had moved overseas, and I locked that relationship away deep in my heart. I never imagined that our reunion today would be a blind date. Was it just a massive coincidence, or was it fate? "If I had known it was you, I would have come even if I had to crawl," he joked with a smile. I laughed along. "I can't believe after all these years, you still aren't married." A shy, bashful smile spread across Mark's face. Just like eight years ago, when our relationship was at its best. We had a wonderful dinner. Before we left, Mark looked at me and spoke with genuine sincerity. "Actually, all these years, I never forgot you. We..." "It's not possible anymore," I cut him off cleanly. "My daughter is taking her SATs next year. I don't want to hold you back." "Alright," he shrugged with a hint of regret. "But I still wish you happiness." 6 When I turned on the lights in my apartment, I realized my daughter was already home. "Sweetie? Why didn't you tell Mom you were coming back?" Pleasantly surprised, I swapped my heels for slippers and moved to hug her. Chloe sat on the sofa, arms crossed, glaring at me coldly. "Where were you? Why are you back so late? Have you been drinking?" I sniffed my clothes. I didn't smell anything. "I just had dinner with a friend and a glass of wine. What's wrong?" "A friend?" Chloe sneered, tossing her phone onto the coffee table. "Are you sure about that 'friend'?" On the screen was a clear photo of Mark and me having dinner together. "If a classmate hadn't run into you and asked me why my mom was out on a date..." "I wouldn't have even known you were still talking to this random guy." Looking at my daughter's mocking expression, I forced myself to be patient and explain. "Mom only found out it was Mark when I got to the restaurant. We just caught up as old friends." "Please. You just can't survive without a man, can you?" My daughter's words hit me like a physical blow. I stood frozen in place. "Did you think I didn't know about you secretly meeting up with my math teacher?" "And Mr. Davis? You guys text every single day. Isn't that disgusting?" "You preach to me every day about not dating in high school, but your own personal life is filthier than anyone's." "You really think nobody knows the disgusting things you do? Having a mother like you is humiliating." My daughter screamed at me as if she were venting a deep-seated hatred. When she finished, she grabbed her bag, slammed the door, and stormed out. Leaving me standing alone in the living room, trying to digest the vile character assassination delivered by the person I loved most in the world. 7 Chloe had always struggled with math, so I frequently communicated with her teacher, hoping to find ways to boost her grades. Since she was a sickly child, I was constantly in touch with Dr. Davis, her pediatrician, to manage her health. And Mark? Today was the first time I had seen him in 8 years, and I had no intention of seeing him again. I never, ever imagined that in my daughter's heart, this was the kind of person I was. Selfish, calculating, promiscuous, desperate for male attention. I sat on the sofa with a bitter smile, feeling a pain in my chest that was even sharper than the day I caught David cheating. That day, he had shielded Ashley behind him and told me: "Claire, if you're angry, take it out on me. Don't hurt an innocent person." They were the innocent ones. I was the villain. I don't know how long I sat in the dark. My phone chimed. I opened it. Sarah had sent me a screenshot. [What is Ashley trying to pull? She's really treating your daughter like her own.] I tapped on the image. It was a selfie of Ashley with her arm around Chloe. The caption read: [My poor, misunderstood girl.] Chloe's eyes were still red from crying, but she was leaning into Ashley's embrace. A perfect picture of mother-daughter bonding. I clicked over to Chloe's profile. Surprisingly, I could see a new post. It was the exact same photo, but with a different caption. [Heart-to-heart with Mom.] I hadn't been granted access to her posts in almost two years. So in this moment, I was absolutely certain she had unblocked me just so I could see this. She wanted me to see their "mother-daughter" bond. She wanted me to see her leaning on another woman. She knew perfectly well that Ashley was the woman her father cheated with, yet she still chose to call her "Mom." Maybe only the people closest to you know exactly where to twist the knife so it hurts the most. But she wasn't a child anymore. She needed to take responsibility for her own choices. And I was going to support her decision. This daughter... I didn't want her anymore. 8 For the next few weeks, I poured all my energy back into my career. I proactively took on several massive, complex projects, working until my head spun every single day. Naturally, I didn't have the time or energy to obsess over what Chloe was doing. I didn't send five or six texts a day, desperately trying to prove my love. I imagine she was quite happy to be rid of me. During this time, Ashley only contacted me once. Her voice was still that soft, gentle purr that seemed to captivate both men and women. "Claire, when are you going to come pick Chloe up?" At the time, I was busy finalizing the final draft of a major design project. I replied with genuine confusion: "She has arms and legs. She can come back whenever she wants." All these years, I had strictly adhered to a "no contact unless absolutely necessary" policy with David, communicating only through Ashley when needed. When it came to that cheating bastard and his mistress, my stance was always: 'I hope you two are locked together forever.' Ashley didn't say much else, only trying to excuse Chloe's behavior by saying she was in her rebellious teenage phase. She asked me to be a little more understanding if she had done anything to upset me. I almost laughed out loud. The mistress who usurped my marriage was now trying to lecture me on maternal patience. "She can do whatever she wants. You don't need to tell me that." To my surprise, Chloe actually did come home on her own. That day, my department had finally closed a massive deal, and as the Director, I treated my team to dinner. I drank a little too much out of sheer excitement, and one of the junior girls on my team had to drive me home. As soon as I walked through the door, I saw Chloe storming out of her bedroom, looking pissed. "You really are going wild, aren't you? What kind of mother acts like this?" My junior, Maya, who was just about to say hello, froze in her tracks. She shot me an awkward glance, then forced a polite smile. "This must be Chloe! Director Li talks about you all the time. You're so pretty." Chloe glared at her and scoffed. Then she turned, slammed her bedroom door shut, and went back inside. Tipsy and exhausted, I told Maya to drive safe, and then I fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep. 9 The reason Chloe came back was that the new school year was starting. Previously, to accommodate the intense schedule of her junior year, I had meticulously planned out her schedule for the entire year, optimizing every single second. This meant I had to wake up at 4:30 AM every day to make breakfast, and drive her to school at 5:30 AM sharp. I'd rush home at 6:00 PM to cook dinner, then drive back to work at 8:00 PM. I'd sneak out of the office early at 11:30 AM just to deliver a hot lunch to her school. And the evenings were a whole new battleground... But back then, I felt incredibly fulfilled. It felt like we were fighting the battle of high school together. But now, looking at that meticulously color-coded schedule, I just felt like the old me was completely insane. I had a perfectly good life, and I chose to torture myself. I wasn't expecting it, but on the very first day of school, Chloe was late. She barged into my bedroom, furious, screaming at me to drive her to school. "It's 8:00 AM, do you realize that?! Morning homeroom is already over!" "Why didn't you wake me up?! WHY!!!" I was groggily jolted awake by her screaming, her voice piercing my eardrums. "The allowance I gave you yesterday included Uber money." "If you think the commute is too inconvenient, you can apply to live in the dorms." "I am not obligated to drive you to school every morning. I'll pick you up in the evenings since it's late." Seeing she was about to argue, I glanced at my phone. "It's almost 8:30 now. Are you sure you want to keep throwing a tantrum here?" Chloe stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. I actually knew exactly why she had overslept. At 2:00 AM last night, I could still hear the sound of video games coming from her room. In the past, I would have gone in and scolded her, telling her to go to sleep immediately. But now, what did any of that have to do with me?
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