Chapter 3

Diana's POV

The phone rings for a long time before he finally picks up.

"What now?" Marcus sounds annoyed.

"Marcus, Willow's running a really high fever! You need to come home and drive us to the hospital!" My voice cracks.

There's a beat of silence on the other end.

Then I hear Paige's voice in the background, soft and shaky. "Marcus... I'm scared, don't go, please..."

Marcus's voice goes cold instantly. "Diana, can you please stop with this act? Every single time I'm not home, you pull the sick kid card. Paige's blood sugar crashed today, she's alone at the hospital hooked up to an IV, she's scared of the dark, I can't leave her."

"Marcus! Your daughter is dying!" I scream, desperate.

"That's enough! Take a cab! Stop using our kid to guilt-trip me!"

The line goes dead.

I stare at the black screen, then look down at Willow, at how much pain she's in.

Something in me goes cold for good. This is the man I've loved for years, and he can't even be bothered for his own daughter.

I force myself to steady myself. I wrap Willow in a blanket and run out the door.

Outside, the rain is coming down so hard it feels like it could swallow the whole city.

By the time I make it to the entrance of our complex, Willow's eyes are starting to roll back in my arms, her little hands ice cold.

"Willow, stay with me, please, baby, stay awake!"

I'm crying and waving my arms wildly at the edge of the road.

It's too late for cabs. There's not a single one out here.

Finally, after what feels like forever, someone pulls over in their own car. The driver takes one look at Willow and doesn't even ask questions, just tells me to get in, then runs through red light after red light to get us to the children's hospital ER.

The doctor takes one look and pulls Willow straight out of my arms, rushing her into the trauma room.

"Acute pneumonia with febrile seizures, get her in now!"

The red light above the door switches on.

I sink down onto the cold bench outside, soaked through, looking like I just crawled out of a river.

The hallway is dead silent. It's terrifying.

I keep my eyes locked on that door, and all I can see is Willow's clock spinning wild in my head.

It was that close.

Two hours. The longest, most agonizing two hours.

My phone doesn't ring once.

Marcus doesn't send a single text. Doesn't call once.

He's with Paige.

And his own daughter is fighting for her life.

The door finally opens.

The doctor walks out, exhausted, pulling off his mask. "She's stable, the fever's down. Good thing you got her here when you did. Ten more minutes and this could've gone a lot worse."

I push myself up off the wall and walk over to the bed.

I look at Willow, finally asleep.

Right then, something in me that's been wound tight for five years just snaps.

The next morning, Willow's condition is fully stable.

I ask a nurse to keep an eye on her for a bit and take a cab home.

I open the door and the place is exactly how I left it the night before, in a panic.

The shattered milk cup. The slippers scattered on the floor.

Marcus never came home.

I walk into the study and pull out the divorce papers I drew up a few days ago, the ones I'd hidden at the bottom of a drawer.

I already know how I want to split things. Everything, right down the middle.

Full custody of Willow goes to me.

I pick up a pen and sign my name, then set the papers on the coffee table where they'll be impossible to miss. I take off the necklace and set it down next to them.

I pack up mine and Willow's clothes, our IDs, and Willow's favorite toys into a suitcase.

I don't take a single thing Marcus ever bought me.

Once everything's packed, I stand in the entryway and take one last look at this house, the one I spent five years building.

There's still a photo of the three of us hanging on the wall.

I walk over, pull it down, and drop it straight into the trash. I walk out the door and don't feel a single thing.