The day our daughter Mia turned five, my husband’s mistress, Amber, posted a photo on Instagram. It was a selfie of the two of them, tucked into bed, a little boy asleep between them. Her caption read: **【Little guy was fussy and wanted his daddy before bed, and this super-dad dropped everything to rush over. ❤️】** The man in the picture, the “super-dad,” was my husband, Julian. I glanced at the text he’d sent me just ten minutes earlier: **【Something came up at the office. Don’t wait up for me and Mia.】** I liked her post. Then I called my divorce lawyer. *** 1 Julian didn’t get home until two in the morning. The harsh glare of the headlights cut through the bedroom window, and I instinctively shielded Mia’s eyes. He leaned against the doorframe, his voice a low rumble. “Hey, I’m home. Wake Mia up, I’ll celebrate her birthday with her now.” I used to be obsessed with these family rituals. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, even kindergarten events—I’d always insist Julian be there. I didn’t want Mia to grow up like I did, seeing her father mostly through a phone screen. But now… I straightened the comforter, my voice flat. “Don’t bother.” A flicker of annoyance crossed Julian’s face. “Chloe, I was just putting Leo to sleep. Don’t get the wrong idea.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “This is why I can’t be honest with you. You’re always so suspicious.” I wasn’t getting the wrong idea. And I wouldn’t be suspicious anymore. “If that’s all, you should go to your own room. Don’t wake Mia. She has school tomorrow.” He let out a cold laugh. “Whatever. Just don’t come crying to me later, saying I’m missing out on Mia’s childhood.” I turned and switched off the lamp, gently patting the back of my daughter, who had started to stir. Missing out? I didn't care anymore. After all, Mia’s birthday wish this year was: “I don’t want to see Daddy anymore.” The next morning, after breakfast, Julian didn’t leave for work right away like he usually did. He sat on the couch, watching the morning news. Just as I was getting Mia’s backpack ready, he stood up, grabbed his keys, and walked over, ruffling her hair. “Daddy’s taking you to school today.” He said it to Mia, but his eyes were locked on me. Two years ago, when Mia first started kindergarten, Julian drove her every single day. But after Amber showed up, he started leaving earlier and earlier, claiming his morning meetings at the office had been moved up. I’d believed him. Until three months ago, when Mia switched schools. I was waiting at the gate and saw him. The man who was supposed to be in a board meeting was leaning over, unbuckling a little boy from the back seat of his car. It wasn’t that he didn’t have time to take his daughter to school. He just had someone more important to take. We had a massive fight that night. The next day, Mia stopped asking for him to take her. Even though I’d already decided on the divorce, he was still her father. I thought for a moment and didn’t say no. A small, triumphant smile touched the corner of his lips as he scooped Mia into his arms. But when he opened the car door, I froze. The back seat was cluttered with stuff. A Spider-Man water bottle, a wooden toy bow-and-arrow set, a woman’s cashmere scarf draped over the headrest… And tucked into the back of the passenger seat was a small, framed “family photo.” Julian saw where I was looking. His expression tightened. “Amber just stuck that there. She said it makes Leo happy,” he said defensively. “Don’t start a fight over something so small.” The old me would have shattered the frame, would have screamed and cried, demanding to know what Mia and I meant to him. But now, I just nodded. “It’s a nice picture.” He stared at me, a strange look in his eyes. “You’re not mad?” Mad? Maybe I should have been. But I felt nothing. A complete, hollow calm. In fact, it was almost funny. Did Julian, always so sharp and perceptive in business, really not see through such a clumsy, transparent power play? Or maybe he just didn’t care. “We should get going,” I said softly. “Mia’s going to be late.” His lips thinned into a hard line as he got into the driver’s seat. Just as I was about to buckle Mia in, his phone rang. The ringtone was a child’s voice, custom-recorded. *“Daddy, Daddy, it’s a call for you! It’s for my best Daddy!”* A little boy’s frantic sobs came through the speaker. “Daddy! Daddy, where did you go? Are you leaving me and Mommy?” Julian ended the call without even a glance in our direction and started the car. “Leo’s having a meltdown. I’ll have the driver take you guys today.” The black Maybach sped away, leaving us in a cloud of exhaust. I worried about Mia and knelt down to face her. “Honey, Daddy had an emergency. Next time he’s free, we’ll all go to school together, okay?” Mia looked at me, her small face etched with an unnerving maturity. “Daddy’s never going to be free, Mom. His time belongs to Leo and his mom now.” *** 2 That evening, Julian called. “Chloe, I’m going to be late. Leo’s running a fever…” “Okay.” My quick agreement seemed to catch him off guard, his excuses dying in his throat. He must have thought I was giving him the silent treatment, because his tone sharpened with irritation. “Chloe, don’t be like this.” Then he hung up. Ten minutes later, a series of texts came through. 【OMG Chloe, I’m so sorry. Leo has been so clingy with his dad lately.】 【But seriously, Julian shouldn’t have just ditched you and Mia the second I called. That was not cool of him.】 【I’ll be sure to give him a talking-to. Don’t be mad, okay? ?】 It was Amber. Less of an apology, more of a declaration of victory. I had no energy to fight her over a man I no longer wanted. I deleted the texts and blocked her number. A moment later, Julian called again, his voice tight with anger. “What the hell is your problem, Chloe? Amber reaches out to apologize and you give her that attitude?” I could faintly hear a woman and child crying in the background. I said nothing. After a long, tense silence, his voice dropped, heavy with disappointment. “Chloe… how did you become this person?” he said. “I’m so disappointed in you.” It was always the same. Amber would provoke me, and the moment she shed a tear, Julian would paint me as the villain. When I got home, I started packing. While Julian was on the phone lecturing me, I’d been on the phone with my lawyer. I was entitled to at least 30% of his company’s shares. And in custody cases where both parents have similar means, the court typically favors the mother. My last hesitation vanished. Clothes, handbags, jewelry, Mia’s favorite toys—all of it needed to go. As I taped up the last box, my hands trembled. I found myself staring at an old, dust-covered wooden chest, its wax seal cracked with age. Inside was a lifetime of letters—from the Julian who was 17, all the way to 22. I broke the seal and picked up the one on top. It began: 【To my Chloe, age 27. This is me, Julian, age 17.】 【This is the first love letter I’ve ever written you. As we planned, we’ll open this together in ten years.】 【I bet we’re married by now. Maybe we even have a beautiful kid.】 My phone buzzed. It was the 27-year-old Julian. “Chloe! Did you know Amber took Leo and left? They’re gone!” he roared into the phone. “If anything happens to them, I swear to God, you’ll pay for it.” My eyes drifted to the bottom of the letter I was holding. 【Signed, Julian. Who will love his Chloe forever.】 A sharp pain, like a shard of glass, pierced my chest. Something inside me quietly shattered. I hung up the phone and tossed the entire box of letters into the fireplace. *** 3 Julian didn’t come home that night. I didn’t blow up his phone with frantic calls like I used to, crying and promising I wouldn’t give Amber a hard time anymore. Mia never asked where her daddy was. The only thing she did was quietly take a framed photo of her and Julian from the living room and hide it in her suitcase while I was packing. We were in a cold war. It lasted a week, until Mia’s kindergarten needed a permission slip signed for a field trip, which required a parent’s digital signature on the school portal. I tried calling Julian, only to find he’d blocked my number. Left with no choice, I drove to his office. I wasn’t waiting long before a familiar figure breezed past the reception desk and straight into Julian’s office. The assistant pouring me a glass of water looked embarrassed. “Mrs. Vance… Mr. Vance gave instructions that Amber can go into his office anytime.” That “privilege” was, ironically, my fault. Back when I used to bring Julian lunch every day, we’d eat and talk for an hour. One time, Amber came by to see him and the assistant at the time stopped her. When Julian walked me out, he found Amber and her son shivering in the lobby, their lips blue from the cold. It was the first time Julian ever truly lost his temper with me. He yelled that my daily lunch deliveries were a waste of his time. The assistant who had stopped Amber was fired on the spot. From that day on, everyone in the company knew. Amber was the one who held his heart. I never came back to the office again. I gave the new assistant a small, polite smile and walked toward the office. Julian was in a meeting. He looked surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?” Amber was perched on the armrest of his leather chair, their bodies so close they were almost touching. He followed my gaze and cleared his throat. “Chloe, don’t misunderstand. Amber just happens to know a few things about this project, so…” I nodded, not caring, and held out my tablet. “Mia’s permission slip for her field trip needs your signature.” “You came all the way down here just for that?” “What else?” I replied. The atmosphere in the room grew heavy. I didn’t know why, but based on years of experience, I knew he was in a foul mood. Amber scoffed. “What kind of signature is so important? Julian, she’s just looking for an excuse to make up with you. You’ve been staying at my place for days. You should probably go home and see Mia.” The tension in Julian’s shoulders eased. He tossed the tablet onto the coffee table, a cruel, mocking smile playing on his lips. “So now you’re using our daughter as an excuse, Chloe? Apologize to Amber. Otherwise, I’m not signing anything.” Before, those words would have enraged me. I would have been furious that he cared so little for his own daughter, and even more furious that he was using her to placate his mistress. But now, I wasn’t angry at anyone. I just thought about how disappointed Mia would be if she couldn’t go on the trip. I looked at Julian, then at Amber, still sitting possessively on the arm of his chair. Without another word, I turned and walked out. I’d just tell the school Mia didn’t have a father. I’d only taken a few steps when a crisp, clear male voice stopped me. “Ms. Tang, if you don’t mind, I’d be happy to sign for you.” It was one of the men from the meeting in Julian’s office. He stepped out into the hallway. “After all,” he added with a hint of irony, “I feel like I’ve been watching your family drama for a while now.” I finally got a good look at him. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit that screamed power, with sharp, intelligent eyes and a commanding presence. He looked like he owned half the city. I handed him the tablet without hesitation. The authorization went through instantly. On the screen, a bold, elegant signature appeared: **Ethan Cole.** *** 4 The divorce papers were drafted. I unilaterally ended our cold war and told Julian he needed to come home that night to sign them. When I went to pick Mia up from school, his Maybach was already idling in the pickup lane. The window rolled down, revealing Amber in the passenger seat, a smug smile on her face. “Well, hello, Chloe. Picking up your daughter?” she said, her eyes raking over my outfit. “This is a pretty exclusive academy, you know. Is that a coat from last season? Aren’t you worried the other kids will make fun of her?” I ignored her and moved a little further down the sidewalk. Amber turned to Julian, her face a mask of faux concern. “Julian, did I say something wrong again? I think Chloe’s mad at me.” But for once, Julian didn’t answer her. He was staring at my thin coat, his voice stiff. “Chloe, it’s windy out. Get in the car.” I moved even further away. I don’t know when it happened, but we had become strangers. So much so that even a simple expression of concern sounded forced and hollow. As the kids started filing out, a scuffle broke out in the line. I squinted and my heart dropped. One of them was Mia. I ran over and pulled them apart. The other child was Leo. The moment he saw me, he froze for a second, then threw himself on the ground and started wailing. “Waaah! The mean lady hit me! It hurts, it hurts!” Julian and Amber rushed over. Amber scooped her son into her arms, glaring at me. “Chloe, I know you don’t like me, but you can’t take it out on a child! They were just playing. Did you have to get so aggressive?” Julian stared at me with disapproval, completely forgetting that Mia was his actual daughter. The teacher on duty hurried over, looking flustered. “Mrs. Vance, Amber… the children saw Mr. Vance’s car, and they both started insisting he was their daddy. It… escalated.” The pickup line was now crowded with other parents, all of them watching. “What’s going on? Two kids fighting over a dad? Is that the wife and the other woman?” “That guy looks loaded. Maybe the other kid’s just a gold digger, making it up, and got caught by the real daughter.” “Wow, teaching your kid to lie about their dad at that age? What kind of parents are they?” Leo was still screaming, his arms wrapped tightly around Julian’s neck, crying, “Daddy, Daddy!” And Mia… Mia just stood there, clutching my hand, her eyes fixed on Julian, not blinking. The other kids started chiming in. “Mister, who’s your real kid? You gotta tell us! The one who’s lying has to say sorry!” Julian opened his mouth. “I’m Mia’s—” Just then, Amber gave his sleeve a tiny, desperate tug. Her eyes were pleading. In that single instant, I knew. He was wavering. Just like all the other times, the countless times before. All it took was one look from Amber, and Mia and I became his second choice. I gritted my teeth, my voice like ice. “Julian, think very carefully about your answer. What you say right now will affect Mia for the rest of her life.” His body went rigid. His gaze dropped, his expression unreadable. Then, in a voice that was quiet but clear enough for everyone to hear, he said: “I’m Leo’s father.” He looked down at my daughter, at our Mia. “I think you’re mistaken, little girl.” My heart seized. It felt like a sledgehammer had slammed into my chest, the pain so sharp it stole my breath. *That’s our daughter.* The crowd of parents started murmuring, their judgment now aimed squarely at Mia. “So the little girl was lying. And she hit their son, too.” “What a brat. She got caught and won’t even apologize.” “She’s just jealous. Wants a rich dad for herself.” “Look at her mom. She doesn’t look like the classy type, either. Probably put her up to it, hoping to snag a rich guy.” “Julian, you soulless…” Before I could finish, I felt a sharp pain in my palm. Mia was squeezing my hand, her grip astonishingly strong for a five-year-old. She bit her lower lip, and the light in her eyes just… went out. “Mommy,” she whispered. “It’s okay. Let it go.” Then, she turned, her movements wooden, and bowed stiffly to the man who was her father. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said, her voice small and empty. “I made a mistake. I thought you were someone else.”
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