Past the Crossroads of No Return

Even on a day meant for family reunions, the streets appeared strangely empty.

I took out my phone, planning to call a ride. Before I could open the app, I saw Willow Steele's Instagram post. She was holding our daughter, Naomi Johnson, together with Luther Lloyd.

The three of them smiled warmly at the camera. The caption read, "Our family of three."

My fingers tightened around my phone.

My partner of six years, Willow, had never been one to post on social media—not when we were dating, getting married, or raising Naomi. She had never shared any of it.

It wasn't like I hadn't asked her why before. Her answer had always been the same. She said it wasn't necessary. Now, looking at that intimate family photo, I finally understood what she meant.

I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. Then, I dialed my supervisor.

For years, my company had wanted to send me abroad for further training. I kept putting it off because I couldn't bear to leave Willow and Naomi behind.

Now, all at once, it hit me that everything I had given over the years had been nothing more than a one-sided effort.

I was just about to book a flight when I realized I had forgotten my ID and passport, so I had no choice but to return home.

The moment I opened the door, I was greeted by a mess all over the floor. Leftover snacks were scattered everywhere, along with half-finished dishes left behind.

Right by the bedroom door lay something impossible to miss—a box of levonorgestrel pills and a piece of wine-red lingerie.

Willow had never liked being physically intimate with me. Even Naomi's existence had come from a drunken incident.

Just then, the bedroom door opened. It was Willow. The moment she saw me, she froze for a split second.

I couldn't help but notice the bright, unmistakable hickeys on her neck. They stood out sharply.

If this had happened before, I probably would've thundered, demanding an explanation. Now, I simply looked away from her.

Willow quickly composed herself. She crossed her arms, a hint of disdain on her face. "Didn't you say you wanted a divorce? It's barely been a few hours, and you're changing your mind already?"

I drew a deep breath, forcing myself steady. "I'm here to grab my ID and passport. I'll leave right after that."

She paused for a moment, then let out a cold laugh. "Who are you trying to fool? You think pulling this kind of stunt will get my attention. You know what—let's just end the fight. Since you're back anyway, clean up the house.

"Because of you, dinner was ruined, and my family had to leave early. Once you're done, go out and buy some hangover medicine for Luther."

Every holiday, all the mess at home had always fallen on me. She had never once offered to help. Honestly, I was done playing the butler.