Chapter 2

At 8:00 p.m., Felix walked through the door, holding Mia’s hand. Miranda looked up to see her daughter skipping in, her twin braids bouncing, a new pink bunny plush clutched in her arms.

As Miranda stepped forward, wanting to hug her, Mia suddenly pushed her away with both hands, pouting.

“Hmph. I don’t want Mommy to hold me.”

Miranda froze, her arms still halfway outstretched.

Felix crouched down beside Mia, his voice gentle. “Mia.”

Mia’s lips trembled as she turned away and buried herself in Felix’s arms, eyes turning red with frustration and tears.

A sharp bitterness twisted in Miranda’s chest. Her five-year-old daughter had been quietly influenced and almost brainwashed by Xena for three years. That was her fault. She didn’t blame Mia.

Swallowing hard, Miranda turned to Mrs. Young. “Please get Mia ready for a bath later.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mrs. Young replied.

The moment Miranda walked away, laughter echoed from the living room—Mia’s joyful giggles blending with Felix’s low, affectionate voice.

The media often described Felix as a daughter-obsessed father, and Miranda didn’t disagree.

If there was anyone Felix loved more than anything else in the world, it was undoubtedly their daughter.

Leaning against the doorframe, Miranda drifted into memory.

Eight years ago, Felix was in a terrible car accident. He fell into a coma and remained unconscious at her father’s hospital for a year. At the time, Miranda had been secretly in love with him. Without hesitation, she took a year off from school to care for him.

When he finally woke up, she confessed her feelings. Despite his mother’s strong opposition, Felix chose to marry her. A year later, their daughter was born. For a time, it seemed like their life would be complete.

But when Mia turned two, Felix began traveling abroad more and more, and at the same time, their daughter started showing an unexplained resistance toward her.

It took Miranda two full years to realize another woman had stepped in and started acting as Mia’s mother.

Xena Spencer—an internationally acclaimed pianist, a prodigy in the arts, and the woman Felix had never stopped loving.

Today, she was also the “Aunt Xena” that Mia adored and idolized.

Felix never admitted he regretted marrying Miranda. But the way he had acted these past two years made his feelings painfully clear.

Miranda went downstairs to grab a glass of water. As she turned the corner, she overheard Felix on the phone.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll remind her to brush her teeth.

“Make sure you put ointment on your finger. Follow the doctor’s instructions. Don’t be stubborn.”

Miranda let out a quiet scoff. He was talking to Xena.

It wasn’t hard to guess Mia had dinner with her tonight—and probably something sweet again. Treats were Xena’s go-to trick for winning Mia over.

And Felix? He let it happen. He never once stepped in.

“Go to bed early. Don’t stay up too late. I’m hanging up.” Felix ended the call and turned to head downstairs.

That was when he saw Miranda standing there. For a brief moment, his face froze.

“You stay with Mia tonight. I’ve got a video conference. It might run late.”

He glanced at the calendar and frowned slightly. “It’s the eighth.”

“I’ll come to your room after the meeting,” he said flatly as he walked away.

The eighth. One of their “designated nights.”

There had been a time when Miranda, feeling hurt and neglected, had tearfully demanded they at least maintain some semblance of a marriage.

In response, Felix agreed to her request for intimacy—four times a month, on specific dates: the 1st, 8th, 16th, and 26th. If he was home, he had to fulfill his duties as a husband.

“I'm tired tonight. Let’s do it another day,” Miranda called after him as Felix walked downstairs.

Later that evening, Mrs. Young brought Mia into the bedroom after her bath. Miranda sat waiting with her daughter’s favorite picture book in hand.

“Mia, come here. Mommy will read you a story,” Miranda said with a warm smile.

Mia looked up at Mrs. Young instead. “Mrs. Young, I want my little dinosaur.”

“Alright, I’ll go get it,” Mrs. Young replied as she stepped out of the room.

Miranda patiently waited for her daughter to come over. Mia hugged her stuffed dinosaur and crawled up beside her. It was a gift from Xena, brought back from abroad for Mia’s fourth birthday. Now it was her bedtime buddy, the one she never slept without.

Under the soft light, freshly bathed, Mia smelled sweet and clean, her whole little body warm and soft. Miranda couldn’t resist planting a gentle kiss on her daughter’s head.

But Mia suddenly pulled away. “I don’t want Mommy to kiss me.”

Miranda froze, a sharp ache piercing her chest.

“Mia…”

“You’re never with me! You don’t buy me treats, and you don’t even like me! So I don’t like you either!” Mia crossed her arms and pouted.

Miranda’s heart tightened. She reached out, wanting to comfort her.

But Mia only grew more upset. As if a dam had burst, she broke into tears and cried, “Daddy! I want Daddy! I want Daddy to sleep with me!”

Moments later, Felix appeared at the door. Mia immediately jumped up and ran into his arms.

Felix scooped her up gently. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I want to sleep with Daddy. I don’t want to sleep with Mommy,” Mia whimpered, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

Felix stroked her hair and chuckled softly. “Then Daddy will sleep with both of you tonight.”

Mia nodded eagerly in agreement.

Miranda shifted to the side, making space for the two of them. Only then did Mia finally settle down and crawl under the covers. Felix lay on the other side and extended his arm, letting Mia curl up in the crook of it.

His arm was long, and as he moved, his fingers brushed against Miranda’s shoulder. She tensed and instinctively shifted closer to the edge of the bed.

Mia let out a few soft murmurs and closed her eyes, snuggling deeper into Felix’s warm embrace.

Miranda closed her eyes too, silently waiting for Felix to leave.

About twenty minutes later, Mia was fast asleep. Felix slowly slid his arm out from under her, gently tucked the blanket around her, then leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

Miranda knew his routine. Whenever they slept in the same bed, he would usually kiss her too. This time, she turned away and gave him her back.

Only when she heard his footsteps fade down the hall did she finally roll over and pull Mia into her arms.

Mia’s hand reached out, just like when she was a baby, gently touching Miranda’s cheek in search of comfort. Her soft, round face nuzzled into Miranda’s chest.

Miranda pressed her forehead to Mia’s. This was her flesh and blood. The baby she had carried for nine months. Her everything.

In this broken marriage, there was only one thing Miranda wanted to take with her—her daughter.

If Xena wanted the title of Mrs. Gibson, she could have it.

But if she thought she could take Mia too, Miranda would never allow it.