He Chose Her Son Over Our Daughter

That caught me by surprise, and then my heart ached. My daughter used to adore Timothy, even though he'd barely shown up, and even if he did, he never smiled at her. When I found out Timothy hadn't forgotten about his first love, I asked my daughter, very subtly, if she wanted to leave with me.

And she cried, every single time. "I love you and Dad, Mom. Why can't we stay together?" So I didn't get a divorce for Tabitha's sake.

Yet now she was the one who wanted to come with me. Timothy killed Tabitha's love for him. I looked at the scar on her forehead, and I felt my heart twist into a knot. I held her tightly in my embrace, and with a trembling voice, I said, "Of course. We'll leave. No one will hurt you. Timothy hates us? Then, we'll leave him behind."

Tabitha said sweetly, "It's my birthday tomorrow, Mom. Can I have one last birthday with Dad before we leave?"

Of course. She had one last sliver of hope for her father. Though he was always distant, Timothy would celebrate her birthday every year. Every year, he would give her a limited-edition Hello Kitty plushie. Every year, he would post a status update on the same day. It was the same every time.

A plushie pic and a sentence, if you could call it that.

"First year."

"Second year."

…

It almost felt like a father who deeply loved his daughter was making a record of his daughter's days, and that was why Tabitha still had hope for her father. That was why I kept telling myself that he loved us.

Then, three months ago, Timothy's first love, Willow Wisher, came back. Then, I found out he wasn't celebrating Tabitha's birthday at all. He was keeping a note of how long since Willow left him.

He only bought the plushies because Willow loved Hello Kitty. Tabitha and I meant nothing to him. I tried to tell Tabitha the truth, but I couldn't. It was the last time anyway. I should let Tabitha think her father loved her.

When we came out of the consultation room, we ran into Timothy. He was holding a boy. Nathaniel Watcher. Yes, that was Willow's son. The boy he saved while he abandoned his own daughter.

Willow was right beside him. Timothy was talking to her gently. Oh, I would've envied the couple if Timothy weren't my husband and the father of my child.

Willow saw us first, and she looked smug, yet she pretended to be surprised to see us. "Yvonne, long time no see. I've missed you."

Man, I was impressed with her acting. She came right to me just to gloat when she came back three months ago. She told me how much Timothy still loved her over the years and told me to get a divorce if I was smart.

And now she acted like we were meeting for the first time. Ah, well, why was I surprised? She was the same back in college. I used to think she was my best friend and told her everything.

I fell in love with Timothy at first sight and agonized over how I should confess. She told me to write a confession letter and volunteered to take it to Timothy. I took the advice and gave her the letter, but there was no response.

Before I could even wallow in my sadness, he'd become Willow's boyfriend, but she'd never seen him that much. She only knew him because I told her everything I knew about him. I was still reeling from the shock when my friends told me that they only started dating thanks to that confession letter.

I demanded an explanation, but she looked at me innocently. "Yeah, we only started talking because of the letter, but he fell in love with my looks."

I had no comeback for that. I lost my best friend and the person I loved overnight, so I went abroad to recover. Eventually, I graduated and came back home, but I got news about Timothy's business.

It ran into some sort of crisis, so Willow bailed on him and married someone else overseas. That hit him hard. I couldn't see him wallow in his misery, so I worked as his assistant. The company eventually got back on track.

We held a celebratory feast, and after a drunken mistake, I got pregnant. Timothy went MIA for a week. When he came back, he tossed a ring to me. "Abortion's going to hurt you. We should get hitched."

And so, we did. No wedding photos, no grand wedding. Only a marriage certificate to prove that we were married. For five years, Timothy said nothing about Willow. I thought he'd forgotten all about her.

But he hadn't. He only said nothing because it hurt his soul every time he brought it up. But she came back. Now he had his wish. The third wheel should retire now. Her final act had drawn to a close. That third wheel was me.