Chapter3

Claire's POV

Sienna's eyes went wide. "Ms. Holloway? What are you doing at Mr. Ashford's house?"

The second I heard her, I stepped in front of Owen so she couldn't see him.

"I—"

"They're family. Distant relatives," Ethan said, cutting me off. "They've been staying with me for a bit."

My fingers tightened around the suitcase handle.

I'd heard him say things like that before. It never stopped feeling like a knife.

I opened my mouth, but Owen got there first. "Hi, Mr. Ashford."

I turned to him, stunned. His eyes were shiny with tears he was trying hard not to let fall.

"Mom, can we go now?"

My throat closed. I managed a small smile. "Yeah, baby. Let's go."

As we walked past, Ethan caught my arm.

He looked like someone had slapped him. "What did he just call me?"

I almost smiled at how backward it all was. "Isn't that what you wanted, Mr. Ashford?"

For six years, he'd never once admitted I was his wife. For six years, he'd never once let Owen call him Dad.

The only thing that had changed was who drew the line. Before, Ethan had made our son call him Mr. Ashford. Today, Owen chose to.

I looked down and tried to pull free. He didn't let go.

His expression was heavy, tangled. "Give me a few days. I'll talk to him. I'll explain."

"Sienna's waiting," I said. "Let go of me."

Only then did he seem to realize where he was. Slowly, reluctantly, he released my arm.

I let out a short, cold laugh, took Owen's hand, and turned for the car.

"Wait."

He jogged to his car, came back with a bakery box, and pushed it into my hands.

"Happy birthday, Owen."

Sienna piped up right on cue. "Oh, that cake was supposed to be mine! But it's your son's birthday? What are the odds! You don't mind, do you, Ms. Holloway?"

The box suddenly felt like it weighed fifty pounds.

I was about to hand it straight back. Then I saw the way Owen was looking at it, like a kid on Christmas morning, and I couldn't do it.

He didn't understand what grown-ups did to each other. He just looked up at Ethan with so much hope.

"Will you have some with me?"

Ethan hesitated. Then he nodded.

Owen cheered and pulled me back into the living room, begging me to open the box.

I lifted the lid.

On top of the cake sat a little chocolate plaque. In loopy white icing, it said: Happy Anniversary, S.

Ethan reached over and plucked it off. His face had gone a shade darker.

"It's my one-year anniversary at the company," Sienna said sweetly from the doorway. "Mr. Ashford's so thoughtful."

I didn't say anything. I ruffled Owen's hair and cut him a big slice.

He took a huge bite before I'd even put the knife down. I took a small one myself.

The second it hit my tongue, my smile froze.

"Owen, spit it out! Spit it out right now!"

I grabbed the plate out of his hands so fast the fork clattered to the floor.

Ethan's face hardened. "Claire, what is wrong with you?"

I looked up at him, my eyes burning. "It's mango. Owen's allergic to mango. You didn't know that?"

The anger drained out of his face, and something like fear took its place. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Sorry. Again.

Since the day Owen was born, I'd heard that word from him more times than I could count.

Owen stood very still, staring at Ethan. Whatever hope had been in his eyes went out like a pilot light.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "He didn't know."

Then he turned and pressed his face into my side and wouldn't look at his father again.

I didn't stop to think. I picked Owen up, checked his lips and his breathing, grabbed the EpiPen from my purse just in case, and walked out.

All the way to the car, I could feel Ethan watching us, guilty and frantic.

This time, neither of us looked back.

I dropped by the office one last time to clear out my desk.

I'd wanted to say a proper goodbye to a few people. It didn't seem to matter anymore.

My lawyer already had the original settlement agreement. I left a copy on my desk, squared the edges, and let out a long breath.

Then I picked up our bags and drove Owen to the airport. Our flight to Chicago boarded in an hour.

At the gate, I crouched down in front of him. "Are you going to be sad that we're moving?"

He shook his head and pressed his cheek against mine. "I just need you, Mom."

That was when I finally cried. All the hurt I'd been holding on to turned into something lighter. Relief.

I pulled out my phone and blocked Ethan everywhere he could possibly reach me.

Goodbye, Ethan.

…

Ethan's POV

The next morning, I walked into the office right on time.

I hadn't been able to shake the bad feeling from the day before.

I opened my inbox and stopped cold at an HR approval notice.

"A resignation?"