Chapter 2
For six years, I had imagined what I would say if I ever saw my father again.
None of those imaginary conversations began with me standing beside a trash container with my cheek burning and my three-year-old daughter sobbing against my chest.
Victor Bennett stepped out of the SUV.
My father.
The man I had told never to contact me again after my wedding.
The man who had warned me about Margaret before anyone else had.
He looked older.
More gray around his temples.
More tired around his eyes.
But the second he saw my face, something hardened inside him.
“Naomi.”
Daniel went pale.
Margaret’s smile vanished.
I tightened my arms around Ava.
“What are you doing here?”
Dad didn’t answer immediately.
His eyes moved from my swollen cheek to Ava’s trembling body, then toward the open trash container.
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” Margaret snapped.
My father looked at her.
He had never liked Margaret.
And judging by the way she suddenly took half a step backward, she remembered exactly why.
“Victor,” she said. “This is a private family matter.”
“Then explain why my daughter has a handprint on her face.”
Margaret laughed nervously.
“She attacked me.”
“What?”
I almost shouted it.
Daniel finally moved.
“Everybody calm down.”
I stared at him.
“Calm down?”
Ava flinched at my voice.
I immediately softened.
“It’s okay, baby.”
She buried her face in my shoulder.
Dad walked toward us.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As if he knew I might run from him too.
Then his gaze stopped on Ava.
He had only seen her once.
At the hospital after she was born.
He had stood outside my room with flowers until I told a nurse I didn’t want visitors.
Looking at his face now, I suddenly hated that memory.
“Ava,” he whispered.
She peeked at him.
“You’re Grandpa?”
His expression broke.
Just for a second.
“Yes.”
Margaret stepped between us.
“This is ridiculous. Naomi is creating a scene because she can’t accept that her marriage is over.”
The world seemed to tilt.
I looked at Daniel.
“What did she just say?”
He closed his eyes.
Claire’s hand dropped from his arm.
“Daniel,” I said.
He looked at me.
“I was going to tell you tonight.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“Tell me what?”
“That I want a divorce.”
Ava lifted her head.
She didn’t understand the word.
But she understood my face.
“Mommy?”
I kissed her hair.
Daniel continued.
“I didn’t want it to happen like this.”
I laughed.
It came out broken.
“You brought your girlfriend to our daughter’s birthday.”
“She wasn’t supposed to come outside.”
Claire stiffened.
“That’s not fair.”
I turned on her.
“Fair?”
Her confidence disappeared.
Daniel moved toward me.
I stepped back.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
My father looked at him with a coldness I remembered from childhood.
“You’re divorcing my daughter?”
Daniel swallowed.
“This is between Naomi and me.”
“Your mother just assaulted her.”
“She shouldn’t have hit her.”
I stared at him.
That was all he had?
She shouldn’t have hit her?
“And Ava?” I asked. “What was your mother doing with Ava?”
Daniel glanced toward Margaret.
Margaret answered for him.
“I was teaching the child a lesson.”
Dad’s voice dropped.
“What lesson?”
“She throws tantrums. She needs discipline.”
I felt sick.
“She was taking her toward the trash.”
“That is a lie.”
“She opened the lid!”
Ava suddenly screamed.
“Grandma said garbage babies go in garbage!”
Every adult in the driveway froze.
I stopped breathing.
Daniel stared at his daughter.
“What did you say?”
Ava began crying harder.
“Grandma said I’m dirty.”
I closed my eyes.
Something inside me shattered.
Dad pulled out his phone.
“I’m calling the police.”
Margaret lunged toward him.
“You will do no such thing.”
He moved the phone away from her.
“Touch me and I’ll add that too.”
“Dad.”
He looked at me.
I hadn’t called him Dad in six years.
“I don’t know what’s happening.”
His anger softened.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I know more than you think.”
Daniel’s head snapped toward him.
“Victor.”
That one word changed everything.
Not Mr. Bennett.
Not Naomi’s father.
Victor.
Like they had spoken before.
I looked between them.
“You two have been talking?”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
Daniel said nothing.
My pulse raced.
“What is going on?”
Dad slowly reached into his coat and removed a thick envelope.
“I came because of this.”
He handed it to me.
My free hand was shaking so badly I almost dropped it.
Inside were copies of bank documents.
A trust account.
Ava’s name appeared at the top.
Beneficiary: Ava Grace Mercer.
Trustee: Victor Bennett.
The balance made my eyes widen.
More than four hundred thousand dollars.
I looked at my father.
“What is this?”
“I created it after she was born.”
My throat tightened.
“You never told me.”
“You wouldn’t speak to me.”
“Then why does Daniel know?”
Dad looked at my husband.
“Because three weeks ago somebody submitted documents asking to transfer control of the trust.”
My entire body went cold.
I stared at Daniel.
He raised both hands.
“I can explain.”
“Explain what?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“What wasn’t like that?”
Dad pulled out another page.
At the bottom was my signature.
Except I had never signed it.
I knew immediately.
“That isn’t mine.”
“I know,” Dad said.
Claire whispered something under her breath.
Margaret snapped, “This is absurd.”
My father looked at her.
“The bank also knows it’s fraudulent.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“Naomi, I never intended to take Ava’s money.”
“Then why is my forged signature on a document giving you access to it?”
He looked toward his mother.
That was all the answer I needed.
I stared at Margaret.
“You did this?”
She scoffed.
“Daniel is her father.”
“That money belongs to Ava.”
“It belongs to the family.”
“No.”
My father’s voice cut through hers.
“It belongs to the child.”
Margaret’s face reddened.
Claire suddenly backed away from Daniel.
“Wait. You told me the trust was yours.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Claire, not now.”
“You said Victor had frozen your inheritance.”
“What inheritance?”
My voice barely sounded human.
Daniel rubbed his face.
Dad answered.
“There’s more.”
I wanted him to stop.
I wanted time to stop.
I wanted to wake up that morning again with Ava jumping on my bed in her birthday pajamas.
Instead I stood there while my entire marriage peeled apart layer by layer.
Claire wrapped both arms around herself.
Then she said, “Naomi really does deserve to know.”
Daniel turned.
“Claire.”
“No. I’m done lying.”
Margaret’s face changed.
“Be careful.”
Claire ignored her.
She looked directly at me.
“I’m pregnant.”
The driveway went silent.
I stared at her stomach.
It was flat beneath her cream-colored dress.
“How far?”
She swallowed.
“Fourteen weeks.”
I looked at Daniel.
He said nothing.
“Is it yours?”
His silence was answer enough.
My chest tightened until I could barely breathe.
Ava touched my cheek.
“Mommy hurt?”
I forced air into my lungs.
“No, baby.”
That was a lie.
I had never hurt this badly in my life.
Margaret smiled again.
Not wide.
Not triumphant.
Just satisfied.
Like every cruel thing she had said about me had finally become official.
“Now you understand.”
I looked at Daniel.
“How long?”
“Naomi.”
“How long have you been sleeping with her?”
He lowered his voice.
“Seven months.”
Seven months.
I thought about Christmas.
Our anniversary.
Ava getting the flu and Daniel saying he had to work late.
The conference in Austin.
The Sunday mornings he disappeared to help his mother.
Seven months.
I felt something inside me go strangely still.
Dad must have seen it.
He stepped closer.
“Come with me.”
Margaret laughed.
“Yes. Run back to Daddy. You always were dramatic.”
My father turned to her.
“I suggest you stop talking.”
She took another step toward me.
“You think this changes anything? Daniel will get custody. Claire’s father knows every judge in this city.”
Dad’s expression sharpened.
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s reality.”
Claire looked uncomfortable.
“Margaret.”
But Margaret was no longer listening.
She pointed at me.
“She has no stable family. She barely speaks to her father. She works too much. She’s emotional. And everyone here just watched her become hysterical.”
I stared at her.
Then I understood.
This lunch.
Claire being here.
My father arriving.
The forged documents.
The cruelty toward Ava.
It all felt bigger than an affair.
“You wanted me to lose control.”
Margaret’s mouth twitched.
Daniel looked confused.
“What?”
I looked at the security camera over the garage.
Its tiny red light was off.
“You turned the cameras off.”
Margaret said nothing.
I turned toward Daniel.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
For the first time, he sounded genuinely frightened.
Sirens approached outside the gate.
Dad had already made the call.
Margaret looked toward the street.
Then at me.
And suddenly she slapped her own forearm against the concrete wall.
Hard.
I stared at her.
“What are you doing?”
She did it again.
A red mark appeared across her skin.
Daniel rushed toward her.
“Mom!”
Margaret stepped back, clutching her arm.
Then she began screaming.
“Help! She attacked me!”
My blood went cold.
The police cars entered the driveway.
Margaret started crying.
Perfect tears.
Perfect timing.
May you like
And when the first officer stepped out, my mother-in-law pointed directly at me.
“She tried to kill me.”
