Chapter 1

"Mr. Rogers, I'm working late tonight. You can head home."

My wife, Rachel Lloyd, walked out of the conference room and passed right by me without slowing down. She tossed the words over her shoulder and headed straight for her office.

I stood up, about to say something, when her phone rang.

The moment she answered, her voice changed. It turned soft and almost playful.

"Jeff? You're here? Okay, I'll come down and get you."

Jeff.

Jeff Gibson.

Rachel's college sweetheart, who had spent the past three years abroad, was finally back.

I watched her disappear into the elevator, then let out a bitter laugh. I pulled out my phone and texted our daughter Noelle Rogers’ preschool teacher.

Zane: [Ms. Porter, I'll be there on time to pick Noelle up today.]

The teacher replied almost immediately.

Ms. Porter: [Okay, Mr. Rogers. Noelle drew a picture today. She said she wants to give it to her mommy.]

I stared at the word ‘mommy’, and something twisted painfully inside my chest.

Noelle had no idea that Rachel had never once looked at any of the pictures she drew for her.

Once, Noelle had spent an entire month drawing pictures. She carefully placed the whole stack on Rachel's nightstand.

The next morning, every single one of those pictures sat neatly in the trash.

Noelle did not cry. After that, she stopped drawing pictures for her mother for a long time.

I packed up my things and headed downstairs. The moment I stepped out of the elevator, I saw three people standing in the lobby: Rachel, Jeff, and a little boy who looked about four or five years old.

The boy looked a lot like Jeff. He tugged on Rachel's sleeve and said in his squeaky voice, "Ms. Lloyd, I want ice cream."

Jeff laughed and gently ruffled his hair. "Timothy, stop bothering Ms. Lloyd."

Rachel crouched down, a rare softness appearing on her face.

"Okay! I'll take you to get some."

She stood up and glanced in my direction, her eyes passing over me as if I were a complete stranger.

I lowered my head and walked past them.

As I passed, I heard Jeff ask, "Rachel, how are you still single after all these years?"

Rachel did not answer. She simply laughed, and there was a softness in her voice that I had not heard in years.

When I arrived at Noelle's preschool, she was standing at the entrance, rising onto her tiptoes as she peered outside.

The moment she saw my car, her eyes lit up.

"Daddy!"

I got out and scooped her into my arms. She wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered, "Daddy, is Mommy coming home for dinner tonight?"

My heart tightened.

"Mommy's busy with work. She might not come home tonight."

"Oh..." Noelle lowered her head. Then, she looked up again, her eyes sparkling. "Then we can wait for Mommy to come home before we eat! I drew a picture, and I want to show her!"

I looked at her smiling face. I could not bring myself to tell her that Mommy was not coming home, so I simply nodded.

"Okay. We'll wait for Mommy."

At nine that night, Noelle sat on the living room rug with her picture clutched in her hands, staring at the front door.

Ten o'clock came.

Then eleven.

Noelle eventually curled up against me, her eyelids growing heavier by the minute. Still, she fought to stay awake.

"Mommy... Mommy will be home soon, right?"

I gently patted her back. "Go to sleep. Daddy's right here."

"When Mommy comes home, Daddy, wake me up..."

"Okay."

Noelle fell asleep, still clutching her picture tightly in one hand.

At two in the morning, I heard the lock turn.

Rachel pushed the door open, a faint smell of alcohol clinging to her.

When she saw me sitting on the couch with Noelle in my arms, she froze for a moment. Then she frowned.

"Why are you two still awake?"

I looked at her calmly. "Noelle was waiting for you."

"Why?"

"She drew you a picture. She wanted to show it to you."

Rachel glanced at the picture in Noelle's hands. It showed three people drawn in crayon: a mother in a dress, a father wearing glasses, and a little girl with pigtails. They were holding hands beneath a huge yellow sun.

Rachel looked away.

"I've got work tomorrow. You should go to bed early too."

She turned toward the bedroom. Then, just as she reached the door, she stopped.

"Oh, right. There’s a parent-child activity at Noelle's preschool tomorrow. You’ll go."

"But..."

"I have plans tomorrow." She did not turn around. "Jeff just got back, and there are a lot of places he isn't familiar with. I need to take him around and help him get a few things done."

I held Noelle in my arms and stared at the closed bedroom door.

I could not say a word.

Noelle stirred against me and murmured sleepily, "Mommy..."

I lowered my head. There were tears at the corners of her eyes.

She had never really fallen asleep.