Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Early the next morning, Oliver came home, which was rare. He was carrying a beautifully wrapped gift box tied with a pink ribbon.

He walked over to Daisy and put on his best fatherly manner. "Daisy, I'm sorry I missed your play yesterday. This is for you."

Daisy glanced at me, and her eyes lit up. I gave her a small nod.

She untied the ribbon very carefully. Inside was a hardback picture book, The Little Swan, and a tiny pair of pink ballet shoes.

Daisy had never done ballet. She'd never even taken a class.

She opened the book. A small card was tucked inside the front cover. She was already a good reader, and she sounded it out word by word:

"To Mia, for our little swan's big debut. Love, Oliver and Jessica."

The living room went very quiet.

Oliver's face went stiff. He'd obviously grabbed the wrong box. He'd brought home the gift meant for someone else's niece.

Daisy didn't cry. She didn't make a fuss. She tucked the card neatly back where it had been, put the ballet shoes back in the box, retied the ribbon, and held it out to him with both hands.

"This isn't mine," she said quietly. "You got the wrong one. Mia won't be able to find her present."

Oliver opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

I looked at my daughter's face, far too calm for a six-year-old, and whatever warmth I had left for him turned to ice.

That afternoon, Oliver called me into an empty meeting room at the office.

"Jessica's flat flooded. It'll take at least a month to fix," he said, like it was perfectly reasonable. "Half-term's next week. Let her and Mia have the cottage we booked in Cornwall. You and Daisy can go to your sister's."

I thought I'd misheard.

Daisy had been looking forward to that seaside cottage since the summer. She was going to collect shells there. She was going to build sandcastles with her dad.

"So you're giving the holiday our daughter's been counting down to for three months to your assistant's niece?" It was so absurd I almost laughed.

"It's just a holiday," he said impatiently. "There'll be plenty of other chances. Since when are you so petty?"

"Fine." I nodded calmly. "You're right. There'll be plenty of other chances."

Just not with us.

Oliver looked surprised, then his frown slowly eased. "I'll take you both skiing in Switzerland at Christmas. Now stop making a scene."

That evening, Daisy and I were wheeling our suitcases out of our building when we ran straight into Oliver and Jessica. Jessica was holding the hand of a little girl in a pink coat.

Jessica looked startled. "Anna? What are you doing here?"

"She was dropping off some documents," Oliver said, before I could open my mouth. "That's her daughter."

Her daughter. Not my daughter.

Little Mia looked Daisy up and down with interest, then held up what she was carrying and waved it happily. "Look! Uncle Oliver gave me a swan book!"

Daisy looked at that book for a long time. Then she turned to Oliver and said, very politely:

"Goodbye, Mr. Hartley."

Oliver went completely still.

"Daisy..." He took a panicked step forward.

"Don't touch her." I pushed his hand away, bent down, and picked Daisy up. "Enjoy your holiday."

I didn't look at him again. I carried my daughter into a taxi. As the window slid up, I saw Oliver frozen on the pavement, his face white.

But none of that mattered anymore.

That night, I went back to the office. I put my ID badge, my key card, and my house keys in a brown envelope and left it right in the middle of his desk where he couldn't miss it. Beside it lay his planner, packed with client dinners. In the 2:30 p.m. slot on the day of Daisy's play, he'd written: Mia's ballet debut.

"Anna? Working this late?" the night security guard asked, surprised.

"No." I smiled. "I've resigned. I'm just clearing out my things."

I looked at the desk I'd sat at for six years and knew that nothing here had anything to do with me anymore.

Early the next morning, at Paddington Station, Daisy hugged her little backpack and asked, "Mummy, are we really leaving London?"

"Yes." I looked at her steadily. "Are you sorry, Daisy?"

She shook her head firmly. "No. Home is wherever you are."

I fought back tears. Before the train pulled out, I blocked Oliver on everything. From that moment on, we were gone from his world. Completely.