Chapter 3

"Sorry, Mr. Beckett. Looks like I'll be leaving this family in your hands from now on."

The words had barely left my mouth when Marissa finally noticed the large suitcase beside me.

She shoved it over irritably and rolled her eyes.

"What now? Where do you think you're going? Your father is fine, isn't he? Why are you running around again? Can you use your brain for once instead of losing control of your emotions and running off every time your mother says something? Even a bus ticket costs money.

"And what about that comment you left on Tyler's birthday post? You think because Tyler was generous enough not to make an issue of it, I forgot? Apologize to him now."

Maybe I was too calm.

Marissa simply assumed my father had recovered.

I met the eyes of the woman driving another knife into my chest.

I tried to find anger or grief inside myself, but found nothing at all.

So this was what it meant to give up on a relationship completely.

The other person could bring the entire house crashing down in front of you and you still wouldn't care.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Beckett," I said.

Tyler grinned, barely able to conceal the satisfaction in his eyes.

"It's fine. I didn't take it personally. I even saved you some birthday cake."

With that, Tyler hurried to the refrigerator and returned carrying a dessert plate.

When he handed it to me, he deliberately exposed the fifty-thousand-dollar diamond watch on his wrist.

The stones flashed brightly enough to sting my eyes.

I couldn't stop calculating how many emergency airline tickets that one watch could have purchased.

"Adrian, Ms. Langley said you're from a tiny rural town. You've probably never had Velvet Swan cake before.

"Try it. It's nothing like those cheap whipped-frosting cakes."

The cake hadn't been stored properly.

It had sat in the back of the refrigerator for two days.

Dark green mold had already appeared along the cut edge.

Those two obvious spots that no one else seemed to notice felt like they were silently laughing at me.

See?

This family was never poor.

A thirty-three-hundred-dollar cake could spoil untouched and no one cared.

Marissa had never been stingy.

She simply believed I was the kind of dependent husband who belonged on the cheapest overnight bus while everyone else lived well.

A sudden ache moved through my chest.

The return of feeling made my eyes redden.

I forced down the bitterness and said quietly, "Sorry. I don't like sweets. I have somewhere to be, so I'm leaving."

I had taken only one step with the suitcase when, without warning, Noah grabbed a handful of cake and smeared it hard across my face.

"Why are you such an ungrateful loser? Tyler saved this cake for you. Why won't you eat it?"

I had cared for Noah from the day he was born.

He had severe allergies and had been an unusually high-needs baby.

Marissa chose not to breastfeed because she didn't want the physical demands of it.

For his first six months, he was almost constantly in my arms.

I gave up a promising career to care for him.

Years of lifting and sleepless nights left permanent damage in my arm and lower back.

Whenever the weather turned cold and wet, the pain could become unbearable.

Noah had always been physically fragile.

During spring and fall, he developed coughing and wheezing; in summer, stomach problems were common.

In winter, if he became chilled, he was prone to respiratory infections and sometimes pneumonia.

I stayed beside him night and day until exhaustion made me pale and worn down.

Marissa told him instead that I deliberately let him get sick because I wanted her attention.

After that, the little boy who once saw only his father disappeared.

In his place grew a stranger who looked at me with hostility and contempt.