Chapter 1

Natalie Babcock's face went full tomato. "Luke Lambert, you're being TOTALLY unreasonable! You're divorcing me over some offhand comment?"

Offhand? I actually laughed.

"Just make sure you sign it. Once the cooling-off period's done, we're officially over." I turned and walked off.

The other parents looked around like 'huh?' Total confusion.

They had no clue what I was freaking out about.

I mean, before this mess, Natalie and I were the picture-perfect couple.

No matter how slammed we were, we always picked Yara up together.

Natalie just stood there, clutching the papers like she couldn't decide if she was pissed or shocked.

Pretty sure she didn't think I'd drop the bomb in front of a crowd.

Then her ride-or-die, Tanya Daley, stormed up and slapped me. Hard.

"Who hasn't played house with a doll?" she snapped. "You really had to go nuclear over this?"

She wasn't done. "Natalie makes the money, runs the house, and literally barfed her guts out to have your kid.

"You sit back, reap the perks, and now you're bailing? You're not just trash—you're BELOW trash."

I took a step back, but didn't get far.

Yara ran up and grabbed my leg, eyes watery. "Daddy, I'll be good, I promise. Just stop being mean to Mommy, okay? Don't make her cry again."

Because of her, I couldn't dodge—and Tanya's slap landed clean. My face lit up with heat.

I looked down at Yara. There was a flash—smugness, like she thought she won.

My face went cold. I pried her off and stepped back.

"I'm not your dad. Mr. Fluffy is."

She hit the floor and started wailing.

Natalie rushed over and scooped Yara up, her face all panicked. "Luke, no matter what, you can't lay a hand on her. Where's the calm, patient guy you used to be?"

She paused, voice softer. "Is something up with your research? Is that why you're acting like this?

"We're a team. We're supposed to have each other's backs. Whatever's going on, we'll get through it. Just... let's not talk divorce, okay?"

Natalie's sweet little speech had the moms around us getting misty-eyed. And then—boom—they turned on me.

"Lots of people play with dolls now. Some call 'em dad, some treat 'em like their kids. Why freak out over it?"

"Did Yara say 'again'? So you've been bullying Natalie this whole time? She should've dumped you—and now you're the one making drama?"

"Even if you don't care about Natalie, what about Yara? Kids from split homes get picked on. You seriously don't care?"

I kept my face blank, fists clenched.

"Not gonna sign? Fine. I'll file myself."

Tanya grabbed a pencil box and chucked it at me. "You're really ending your marriage over this? Yeah right—you're probably cheating! Natalie must've been blind to marry garbage like you!"

I was done.

"Cool. Believe whatever makes you feel better. Go ahead and pretend I'M the one who cheated."

***

Their eyes turned cold, full of disgust.

"Living off Natalie and then flipping the script? Gross."

"Looks all clean-cut, but he's trash underneath."

"Cheaters like you don't deserve to breathe!"

They swarmed me—nails out, all rage and no chill.

I don't hit women, and there were too many to dodge.

By the time they were done, my arms and neck were covered in bloody claw marks.

Natalie, crying, pushed through the crowd with Yara in her arms and stepped between us.

"Stop! Luke's not like that. There HAS to be some kind of misunderstanding!"