My Wife Won't Be Our Daughter's Mom

My wife, Thea Sawyer, came home early that evening.

After Mia had taken a bath, Thea sat beside her on the bed and began blow-drying her hair.

"Mia, I'm sorry about today.

"Will you sing it for me one more time? I'll record it, okay?"

Mia stared at her for a long moment before finally nodding.

Thea brought in the recording equipment herself and stayed with our daughter through 12 whole takes.

Whenever Mia made a mistake, Thea never rushed her. She offered water, applauded, smiled, and finally pulled her into a hug.

"My baby girl has the most beautiful voice."

That night, Mia fell asleep clutching her mother's sleeve, a smile curved on her lips.

Watching them together, I felt the anger inside me begin to subside.

After all, before Clark Judson brought his son, Ian Judson, back into town, Thea had been a good wife and a good mother.

When Mia was a child and her fever spiked to 102 degrees, Thea had held her in her arms all night in the ER hallway.

When my stomach problems flared up, she would leave her late-night project meeting and rush home just to make me some broth.

Every summer, whenever Mia wanted to try something new, Thea was always the first to sign her up, research the activities, and take pictures to remember the experience.

That was until June this year, when Clark returned to town with his son after getting divorced.

Clark was the man Thea had spent three years in college almost dating.

His wife passed away early, and Ian grew up without a mother.

From that day on, "Ian" got added to Thea's schedule.

She would postpone Mia's piano lessons because Ian had a guitar audition.

She would even forget about my follow-up appointment because Clark needed help moving at the last minute.

She always said, "They've only just moved back. They don't know anyone or anything around here. What's wrong with giving them a little help?"

Back then, I thought it really was just a little help.

The following afternoon, my coworker sent me a promotional video for a youth arts scholarship program.

In the footage, Ian sat onstage with a guitar in his hands while Thea kept time for him off-camera.

As the chorus began, a clear, childlike voice joined in beneath the guitar.

It was Mia's voice.

But the video's title read, "Ian Judson's Original Performance: 'Clouds That Shine'."

By the time I reached the arts center, Mia was already standing in front of the screen in the lobby.

She tilted her head up, listening to her own voice coming from behind Ian. Only after the video ended did she turn to Thea and ask, "Mommy, weren't we recording my song?"

Thea's expression faltered for a moment. She quickly crouched down and smoothed the hem of Mia's dress.

"Ian's video was missing a girl's voice, so I borrowed yours for now. Once he gets through the first round, we'll record yours."

I told her to take down the video immediately.

However, she merely turned and straightened my shirt collar.

"Darling, Mia doesn't need this particular award, but Ian has always struggled with his confidence. Winning this would mean so much more for his development."

As she bowed her head, I noticed a small reddish mark at the nape of her neck.

I grabbed her wrist.

"What is that?"

Thea froze and quickly pulled her collar closed.

"It's summer. There are mosquitos everywhere. It's a bug bite.

"Don't get the wrong idea. Clark has a child. What could possibly be going on between us?"