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LAUREN'S POV

I knew today would fall apart but hearing it from my daughter made it worse.

“Mommy, do you think Daddy forgot again?”

That question hit me harder than I thought it would. I looked up from the sink, where I’d been rinsing off Elena’s cereal bowl. Her voice was soft, like she already knew the answer but wanted to hear something else. Anything else.

I dried my hands on the dish towel and walked into the living room. There she was, sitting on the edge of the couch in her pink dress, the same one she’d picked out two weeks ago just for today. Her legs dangled above the floor, her shiny black shoes tapping gently against the couch.

“No, baby,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Daddy’s just… running a little late, that’s all. He said he’d be here before five, remember?”

She looked up at the wall clock. It was already quarter past six.

“He said that last year too,” she mumbled, eyes drifting toward the window. “And he never came.”

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. She remembered. I didn’t have the heart to lie to her, but I also didn’t want to crush whatever little hope she was holding on to.

“Elena,” I crouched down beside her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I know he missed last year, but he promised he’d make it up this time. Maybe something came up at work. Grown-up stuff can be really… complicated sometimes.”

She didn’t answer. Just kept staring out the window like she was waiting for a miracle to pull into the driveway.

I stood up and rubbed my palms down my jeans, trying to stay calm. Inside, I was burning. Not just from today but from everything. Every missed birthday. Every forgotten school event. Every night Elena asked me where he was and I had to pretend like I knew.

I reached for my phone and dialed Ethan's number but he wasn't picking up.

The clock struck 6:30pm and I already knew Ethan would come home late. Elena's face was already pale and she looked tired from sitting at the exact position for so long. There was no need for her to keep on waiting for her father who couldn't keep his promise.

“Rosa,” I called out.

The maid poked her head from the hallway.

"Yes ma'am."

"Can you help Elena change into her nightwear, please?”

Elena’s face dropped, but she didn’t fight it. She just slid off the couch and followed Rosa upstairs quietly, dragging her feet as she went.

I sat down, staring at the empty doorway. The silence in the house felt heavier than usual. I picked up my phone and checked the time again. 6:47 PM. Still no text. No call. Nothing.

I sent him a quick message: “Ethan, where are you? Elena waited all day. You promised.”

Still no response.

The hours passed slowly. I sat on the couch, scrolling through the same old photos on my phone, the ones where we actually looked like a family. Back when Ethan used to smile for real. Back when he used to come home early. Back when he looked at me like I was more than just… background noise.

At 8:20 PM, Rosa came back downstairs.

“She’s asleep, ma’am. Didn’t touch her glass of milk.”

I nodded. “Thanks, Rosa. You can go rest.”

I climbed the stairs slowly, peeking into Elena’s room. She was curled up in bed, still in her dress. I was sure she refused to take them off. Her arms wrapped around that old teddy bear Ethan gave her when she was a baby one of the few things he actually showed up for.

I walked over and gently pulled the blanket over her. She didn’t even stir.

“Happy birthday, baby,” I whispered, kissing her forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

Back downstairs, I waited. The clock ticked past 9, then 10, then 11. I didn’t even realize how late it was until the numbers turned to 12:00.

I almost didn’t hear the front door click open.

I shot up, my heart racing. It was him.

Ethan stepped inside like nothing had happened. Coat in one hand, phone in the other. He didn’t even look surprised to see me still awake.

“Where the hell have you been?” I said, voice high but shaking. I can't remember the last time I raised my voice at him but right now I didn't care how high my voice was.

He blinked. “I told you, I had a lot going on at the company lately."

“Don’t.” I held up my hand. “Don’t you dare say that again.”

He sighed, like I was the one being unreasonable. “Lauren, I had a long day, alright? I’m tired, and I really don’t want to do this right now.”

“No. You don’t get to walk in here and act like nothing happened. Your daughter sat in that living room all dressed up, waiting for you. She kept staring at the clock like you were going to burst through that door with balloons and hugs. And you never came.”

Something flickered across his face maybe guilt, maybe just discomfort. But I saw it. I knew that look. He forgot. Again. Just like last year.

“She told you every morning for the last two weeks that today was her birthday. She counted down on the fridge calendar. She talked about it nonstop.”

“I was busy, Lauren.”

“Busy with what? That you couldn't pick my call or reply to my messages? You run your own business Ethan. You set your schedule. You could’ve made time if you wanted to. One day. One damn day for your daughter.”

He looked away, jaw tight. “I’m not doing this.”

He turned to walk past me, but I reached out and grabbed his arm and he quickly turned. There was a faint scent of something sweet and unfamiliar — not his and definitely not mine. That’s when I saw it.

A faint pink lip stain on the collar of his white shirt.

Lipstick.

I stared at it. The world around me dimmed for a second, the silence roaring in my eyes.

“Who is she?” I asked, barely above a whisper.