Chapter 10
I looked at the caller ID and blinked–it was Eric’s college roommate’s
wife.
We barely knew each other and hardly ever spoke.
After a moment’s hesitation, I answered.
“Freya! Thank God you’re back!” she gushed with excitement. “You have
no idea–you’re our *idol* now!”
I frowned slightly.
Maybe sensing my silence, she kept going:
“Did you know? After you left, Eric’s hospital bills were burning
through tens of thousands a day. His parents had to sell their house and
borrow money from my husband and all their friends just to keep him
alive.”
“If you hadn’t run when you did, you’d be drowning in at least seven
figures of debt right now.”
Her tone had a trace of schadenfreude–but she was telling the truth.
“Oh, and that Aria woman–at first, she was playing the devoted nurse,
washing him, feeding him, doting like crazy. But not even a month in,
she bailed, said she had an ‘urgent assignment‘ overseas. Who believes
that? Obviously just didn’t want to care for a disabled man.”
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“And when everyone chipped in to help Eric with the bills? She didn’t
give a cent. Can you believe it? He nearly died for her.”
I listened, the corners of my lips curving into a faint smile.
I’d already predicted all of this.
But none of it mattered anymore. As long as Eric didn’t dump his debts
on me, whatever mess he made of his life wasn’t my concern.
The next day, we met at the Civil Affairs Bureau.
3
He used the original divorce agreement I’d drafted–60% of the assets
to me, 40% to him.
I didn’t comment or object.
When we received the divorce certificate, his eyes turned red.
Standing on the steps outside, he asked with difficulty, “Can I… see my
daughter?”
“Of course.”
I texted Martha, and a moment later, she came down carrying Elara.
The moment he saw her, Eric broke down completely.
He tried to get a glass of water in the kitchen, but pressed the wrong button, scalded his hand, and dropped the cup–it shattered across the floor.
I just smiled lightly.
Chapter 10
“I can’t promise you much. But my daughter *will* have a father.”
He cried harder at that.
3/4
I pretended not to see it.
I let him spend thirty minutes with Elara before saying:
“It’s almost her nap time. You should go. Come again next month.”
He didn’t argue. Just nodded and left.
a
After that, he showed up every month on time to play with his daughter
for a little while.
Sometimes, he would ask, “Can she go visit her grandparents?”
I always said no.
Until Elara turned six, when I finally gave her the choice:
“Do you want to go see them? Visit your father’s side of the family?”
She nodded.
But that time we went back, William spent the entire meal yelling at
- me.
When we got home, she didn’t say a word–just quietly put her backpack away.
After that, she never went to his house again.
And from then on, Eric stopped showing up so often.
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When our daughter turned ten, he got remarried–to a woman who
already had a son.
After that, his visits to Elara became even less frequent.
I don’t know how he’s doing.
But Elara and I? We’re doing just fine.
Whenever there’s a holiday, we hop on a plane–wherever we feel like
going.
One time, while we were sunbathing in Santorini, Greece, I half-
jokingly asked her:
“Elara, do you ever blame me–for growing up without a dad?”
She rolled her eyes and looked at me. “Not enough dads, you mean? You
bring home handsome guys every other week for me to admire. I’m
worried your taste is going to raise my standards so high I won’t be able
to find a boyfriend, okay?”
I laughed so hard I nearly choked on my champagne.
This life–simple, warm, just right in all the best ways.
It’s exactly what I wanted.
