Chapter 3

My blood ran cold when I saw the immigration approval letter in Charlie's hands.

Sure enough, Vivi Wells's name was printed right there on the page.

At that moment, the clerk behind the counter slid my own results toward me. I looked down and saw the same answer I had seen so many times before.

Rejected.

Charlie finally realized what was going on and quietly asked if I was okay. I shook my head, too drained to even manage a thank-you.

That evening, Theodore came home and found the dining table buried beneath stacks of immigration applications. The moment he saw them, a look of understanding crossed his face.

"So you found out."

That was all he said. There was no apology in his voice, not even a trace of guilt.

He walked over to me, and when he spoke again, his tone had softened.

"Vivi has wanted to live there ever since she was a kid. I asked a friend to help with her immigration application, so she ended up taking the spot that would've gone to you."

My hand, resting on the table, slowly tightened into a fist.

Ever since Theodore decided to relocate his company overseas, I had submitted more than thirty immigration applications. Every single one had been rejected.

I had revised the forms again and again, checking every detail until I practically had all fifty-odd pages of requirements memorized.

And now I finally understood that none of that effort had ever mattered.

Theodore placed his hands on my shoulders, speaking to me in the patient, coaxing tone someone might use on a child throwing a tantrum.

"We can move you and the baby over when another opportunity comes up. It's not like there's any rush.

"Besides, you've been doing fine taking care of him on your own. You're getting better at it every day."

For some reason, I almost laughed.

"Is he only my child?" I asked. "Doesn't he have a father?"

"June." Theodore cut me off, impatience flashing across his face. "Do you have to keep arguing until you wake the baby?"

He paused and took a breath. When he continued, his voice was calm again, as though he were simply explaining something reasonable to someone who refused to understand.

"Vivi is still young. There are more opportunities for her over there. Maybe she'll find a good job and build a future for herself."

Then he looked at me and said, "You're a stay-at-home mom now. You don't have to work. What difference does it really make where you live?"

I stared at him, hardly able to believe what I was hearing.

For a moment, I felt as though his next words would be: You're useless anyway.

I hadn't always been a stay-at-home mom.

Once, I had a successful career of my own, one I had worked hard for and could be proud of. Theodore was the one who had persuaded me to give it all up.

"Why work yourself to death when your husband can support you?" he had said back then. "Once we have a baby, you can stay home and take care of the kid. Go shopping whenever you feel like it, relax, enjoy yourself. And when I come home, you'll be right there waiting for me. Doesn't that sound perfect?"

He had clipped my wings with his own hands, and now he looked down on me because I could no longer fly.

A quiet laugh slipped out before I could stop it.

"Fine," I said. "Do whatever you want."

Surprise flickered across Theodore's face. He clearly hadn't expected me to give in so easily.

"You're not going to argue with me this time?"

I gathered the applications scattered across the table and dropped them into the trash.

"No. The baby and I aren't in any hurry."

It wasn't that we weren't in a hurry.

We simply weren't going to follow him anymore.

The tension in Theodore's face finally disappeared, and relief settled over his features. He reached out and stroked my cheek, then glanced toward the baby sleeping peacefully in the crib.

"You and the baby will always come first for me," he said warmly. "I'm glad you finally understand."

A few minutes later, he called a restaurant to make a reservation so he could celebrate Vivi's successful immigration approval.

I stayed where I was and watched him leave, unable to miss the excitement in his step.

On the coffee table in front of me sat a divorce agreement.

I picked up a pen and signed my name.

Then I went over to the crib and gently stroked my baby's soft, chubby cheek.

"How about Mommy takes you somewhere new?" I whispered. "We can start over somewhere else."

He was far too young to understand what I was saying. He simply looked up at me and giggled, his little face bright with an innocent smile.

The next evening, I was holding him in my arms and getting ready to leave for the airport when the front door suddenly flew open.

Theodore stormed inside.

Before I even had time to react, his hand struck me across the face, practically shaking with rage.

"June Ward, how can you be this vicious?" he shouted. "You tricked Vivi into going out to the middle of nowhere! She was almost assaulted because of you!"