Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was a video.

A little girl, four or five, in a pink tutu, twirling in a children's dance studio. The camera wobbled. Whoever was filming was standing very close.

Under it, Oliver had typed:

"Jessica's niece Mia, first time on stage. Absolutely brilliant! Everyone give our little star some love."

Sent: 2:40 p.m. today.

At 2:40 p.m., our daughter had been on stage, looking again and again at the empty seat in the front row.

The chat filled up with likes and clapping emojis.

"So cute!"

"Mr. Hartley went in person? That's so sweet."

Jessica replied with a blushing emoji. "Thanks, everyone! Oliver spent the whole afternoon with Mia. She absolutely adores him."

I stared at that fifteen-second video. I watched it over and over.

He had a whole afternoon for someone else's niece. He couldn't find twenty minutes for his own daughter's play.

He still hadn't opened the video I sent him.

"Mummy?" Daisy tugged my sleeve. "Can I make my wish now?"

I switched off the screen, took a deep breath, and crouched beside her. "Of course you can. Here's to our best little actress being happy forever. Make your wish."

Daisy shut her eyes and said, very seriously, "First wish: I want Mummy to be happy forever and not cry in secret anymore."

Just like that, my heart was warm again.

No matter how much Oliver hurt me, at least I had Daisy.

"Second wish: Mummy stays healthy and pretty forever." She opened her clear eyes. "Third wish: next time I'm the main character, everybody comes to watch!"

She didn't wish for her dad to come home. At six, she'd already learned to stop asking for things she was never going to get.

"I'll always be here for you," I said, holding her close. And in my head, I said it again: Soon. Soon we'll be free.

After Daisy fell asleep, I opened my laptop and logged in to the court's online divorce service.

I'd filled in the application long ago. There was only one step left.

I ticked "sole application." Under arrangements for the child, I wrote that our daughter would live with her mother. The house, the savings, I didn't ask for any of it.

Then I clicked "Submit."

The court would email him the notice directly. He didn't even need to sign anything. It would go ahead either way.

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

Oliver came in with his suit jacket over his arm, his tie pulled loose. He smelled of cloying, sugary perfume.

He saw the cupcakes still sitting on the coffee table, and the certificate stuck to the fridge door, and he paused.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

I didn't mention the video. I didn't lose it.

"Oliver," I said, looking at him calmly. "I've filed for divorce. The notice will come to your email."

He froze. He'd just started to frown, about to say something, when his phone rang in the dead-silent living room.

Jessica's name flashed on the screen.

He answered. The girl on the other end was crying so loudly that even I could hear every word.

A pipe had burst in the flat upstairs. Water was pouring through her ceiling. She was all alone and she was so scared.

Oliver's face went from annoyed to frantic in an instant. "Don't panic. Turn off the electrics at the fuse box. I'm on my way."

He headed for the door, and without even turning around, he tossed back:

"Anna, I don't have time for your drama right now. Fine. Do whatever you want."

The front door slammed in my face.

I stood alone in the empty living room and suddenly laughed. Tears dropped onto the back of my hand.

Whatever I want?

Fine. Then that's exactly what I'll do.

I pressed my hand to the mark on my neck and, facing the closed door, I said the words softly.

"I, Anna, reject you as my mate."

The mark flared as if someone had held a flame to it. The pain dropped me to my knees on the floorboards. Cold sweat soaked my back. My vision kept going black at the edges.

But after the pain came a lightness I hadn't felt once in six years.

For the first time, the mark under my collar began to fade.