Chapter 4

Travis stiffened for a moment.

But when he met Nora’s utterly calm, emotionless eyes, a strange, simmering irritation rose in his chest.

“So what?” he asked coldly. “You’re using this to threaten me now?”

His voice was sharp, each word like a blade.

“You’ve taken care of Quinton for six years, so you know him better than I do. He clings to you, and now you're asking for a divorce—what exactly are you trying to pull?”

Nora was stunned for a split second… then couldn’t help laughing.

Turns out, when someone reaches the point of absolute disbelief, they really do laugh. She couldn’t even stop the smile tugging at her lips.

Talking to Travis any further was pointless, so she simply agreed,

“You’re right.”

His expression darkened.

“If you’re really set on a divorce,” Travis said, his voice like ice, “then forget about getting custody of Quinton. And unless I say otherwise, you don’t get to see him again.”

He thought that threat would make her back down.

But instead, Nora replied flatly, “Fine. He’s your son.”

Travis’s eyes narrowed.

He stared hard at her, searching for any hint of emotion—anger, grief, regret—anything.

But there was nothing.

Just calm. Cold. Distant enough to be frightening.

Frustrated, he opened his mouth again—but was interrupted by the vibration of his phone.

It was Lily calling.

“Travis,” she said, clearly cheerful, “Quinton’s awake. He asked for you. Can you come to the hospital?”

Travis swallowed his irritation. “I’m on my way.”

He didn’t spare Nora another glance as he turned and left the house.

—

Quinton’s condition wasn’t life-threatening. It was acute gastroenteritis, made worse by his already sensitive stomach and his age.

After a night of IVs and medication, he finally woke up.

He lay weakly against the hospital pillows, face pale.

When the door opened, his eyes lit up— but the moment he saw Travis, that glimmer disappeared.

“Dad…” he rasped. “Where’s Mom?”

Travis paused. He couldn’t exactly repeat what Nora had said.

So he lied, awkwardly.

“She’s… busy. Once she’s done, she’ll come.”

It was a terrible lie, and Quinton clearly didn’t buy it. His eyes began to redden.

“She’s not coming, is she?”

Travis opened his mouth to reassure him, but Quinton looked down and murmured,

“When I was sick before, I used to ask Mom if you’d come… But you never did—not even once.”

Travis felt something twist painfully in his chest.

Before he could respond, Lily stepped in quickly, taking Quinton’s hand and cooing gently,

“You can’t say that, sweetheart. You’re still little—you don’t understand how hard your daddy works. If he didn’t work so hard, how could he give you such a nice life? Even if your mom doesn’t understand, you, as his son, should.”

She’d said things like this before, many times.

But for some reason, it grated on Travis today.

He cut her off. “Don’t say that in front of him.”

Lily’s smile faltered. “Travis…”

He didn’t acknowledge her. He turned to Quinton and said softly, “Mom would never lie to you. I’ll call her now.”

Quinton brightened immediately. “Then I want her pancakes. The one she makes for me.”

“I’ll tell her,” Travis promised.

He stepped into the hallway, scrolled through his contacts, and found Nora’s name.

As his eyes passed the call history, he realized—

They hadn’t spoken in over a month.

His lips tightened as he pressed Call.

The phone rang twice—

Then it was abruptly declined.

—

Back at the house, Nora was overseeing the movers, directing which boxes went where.

Her phone buzzed again. Another call from Travis.

She declined it without hesitation.

They had nothing to say to each other anymore. Why waste time?

“Miss Yates, everything’s loaded. Ready to go?”

Nora smiled faintly. “Let’s go.”

Her new apartment was small—one bedroom, one living room—but perfect for her.

After unpacking and tidying up a bit, she headed to a nearby store for some basic groceries and supplies. Just as she was coming back, her phone rang again.

She almost ignored it, assuming it was Travis again.

But when she checked the screen, her expression froze.

Quinton.

After a short pause, she answered. “Hello?”

On the other end, Quinton clutched his phone watch, perking up slightly at the sound of her voice.

But he quickly forced himself to act tough.

“Why haven’t you come to see me yet? I told you I wanted your pancakes.”

Nora shifted the grocery bag to her other hand. Her tone was calm and unreadable.

“Why should I?”

Quinton blinked.

Stunned.

Nora kept her voice even.

“I’m divorcing your father. And since you always said you wanted Aunt Lily to be your mom… Congratulations. Your wish is coming true.”

“B-but…”

Quinton tried to respond, but nothing came out.

Finally, he slapped the blanket in frustration, eyes starting to water.

“Good! That’s what I wanted anyway! You’re useless—you don’t do anything but drag Dad down! Aunt Lily is a thousand times better than you!”

Nora lowered her gaze.

Everyone says not to take a child’s words to heart.

But it’s in moments like this—when no one’s watching—that the truth always slips out.

She was about to hang up when another voice came through the line.

Travis’s.

His tone was cold and angry.

“How could you say something like that to a sick child? He’s already not feeling well—how could you—”

Before he could finish, he heard the flat beep of the call disconnecting.

Nora had hung up.

Back in the hospital room, Quinton looked up at Travis with red-rimmed eyes.

“Dad… are you really going to divorce Mom?”

Travis pressed his fingers to his temples, feeling like his whole world was unraveling.

“No,” he said after a long silence.

“She’s just… not in a good place right now. Just be good, and don’t make her upset.”

Quinton didn’t respond. He clutched the blanket tightly in his fists.

The door opened again, and Lily entered, carrying a thermal lunch box and a soft smile.

“Travis,” she said sweetly. “Quinton’s such a thoughtful boy. There’s no way he’d ever make Nora mad on purpose.”