Chapter 3: He Was Certain I Could Never Leave Him

Helen's POV

His voice cut through the air like ice, sending a sharp, stabbing pain through my chest.

Biased and one-sided, all to protect Ivy?

No. He was the president of the Nightingale Group. No matter how much he cared for a woman, he still had the capacity to tell right from wrong.

The reason he had no desire to make that distinction was simple: he had already begun planning to hand the child over to Ivy, hadn't he?

If the baby I was carrying were born, chances were it would end up with Ivy too.

What a clever little scheme he'd worked out.

I had no interest in arguing with him any further. I turned to Roxi and said, "Roxi, Mommy has told you before — everyone must take responsibility for their own choices. I'm going to ask you one last time: do you want to stay with Mommy, or do you want your Aunt Ivy?"

In that moment, I had already made up my mind. If Roxi chose me, I would give everything I had to protect her and see her grow up safe and healthy.

But if she chose Ivy...

Roxi had been crying in small, broken sobs, but the moment she met my eyes, she instinctively went still. A flicker of panic crossed her face.

She stumbled over her words. "Why do I have to choose? Can't I have both Mommy and Aunt Ivy? Aunt Ivy is so wonderful — Daddy and I both love her. Why can't Mommy love her too?"

The barrage of questions made me laugh.

The answer was already perfectly clear.

But sometimes a person simply needs to hear it out loud — to sever, once and for all, the last fragile thread of hope still clinging somewhere deep inside.

I said calmly, "No, you can't. So you have to make a choice."

Forced into a corner, Roxi's eyes went red again.

Kael couldn't bear to watch his daughter cry. He pulled her into his arms and turned to me with undisguised contempt. "Helen Davis — if you can't stand Ivy out of sheer jealousy, fine. But now you're putting this kind of pressure on your own daughter? Look at yourself. Is this any way for a mother to act?"

I met his gaze and couldn't help but want to laugh. "I can't stand Ivy? What you mean, Mr. Nightingale, is that you'd like the wife at home and the mistress on the side? It's the twenty-first century — how are you still thinking like it's the Middle Ages? Keep dreaming."

I looked at his face — that striking, impeccably handsome face — and thought of the all-consuming infatuation I'd once had for him. Now that the filter had shattered, I could finally see him clearly. He was nothing more than this.

If anything, the sight of him turned my stomach.

I turned back to Roxi.

She seemed frightened by my expression and shrank further into Ivy's arms, speaking in a small voice. "I want Aunt Ivy, and I want Mommy too. But Mommy smashed Aunt Ivy's little cake. If Mommy apologizes to Aunt Ivy, I can forgive Mommy."

A cold, faint smile curved my lips. Since when did I need her forgiveness?

I turned and walked out of the hospital room.

Thelma was still waiting by the door. She had clearly heard everything. When she looked at me, her eyes were full of quiet anguish. "Ma'am..."

"It's fine." I cut her off gently. "Have the doctor stop by later and go over the dietary guidelines and precautions with them."

If something like this happened again, Kael — if he cared — would at least know how to help Roxi through it. If he didn't care, then Roxi would simply have to endure it on her own.

Roxi's voice drifted out from the room. "Daddy, Mommy left without saying a single word. I've never seen her like that before. Is she angry?"

"No."

Kael's voice was certain.

Of course it was. I had never once lost my temper with him in all these years. Even when I knew about him and Ivy, I had always looked the other way.

Of course he was certain.

Certain that I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. Certain that I could never leave him.

Roxi's cheerful voice followed. "Good. Mommy is so petty — always getting upset at Aunt Ivy. If she keeps acting like this, I won't let her be my mommy anymore. I'll have Aunt Ivy be my mommy instead..."

The light, easy laughter of their little family of three drifted steadily out from behind the closed door.

I smiled quietly to myself, and found that my heart had gone still and calm: Let whoever you want take the role. I'm done.

---

I went home and packed my things quickly.

There wasn't much.

Most of what mattered to me had long been kept at Glimmer Within.

I was an orphan — I lost my mother at seven, my father at fifteen. But my father had loved me deeply. On his deathbed, he had left me a small standalone house with a garden, which he named Glimmer Within. It was my home and mine alone — a sanctuary where I healed in my most helpless moments, and also my private research space.

As I left, I paused in the doorway and took one last look at the place I had lived in for five years.

Just yesterday, the thought of leaving my daughter had felt like a knife through my heart.

Yet in the span of a single night, I had already let go.

Looking around, all I could see was my own solitary figure, moving through a space that held no memories worth keeping.

It should have ended long ago.

I set the keys on the entryway console, closed the door behind me, and walked away without looking back.

From this day forward, I was simply Helen Davis.

Back at Glimmer Within, the first thing I did was call my close friend Cavell and ask him to help me source several medications.

He called me back directly. "Most of what you're asking for is used in pregnancy preservation. Are you planning to formulate your own treatment protocol?"

"Yes."

I knew my own body better than anyone. If I designed the regimen myself, I estimated the odds of carrying the pregnancy to term successfully would rise to at least fifty percent.

Five years ago, when I was delivering Roxi, I had already decided early on to have a cesarean section. But Agatha had insisted on a natural birth, claiming it would make the child smarter. The result was over five hours of labor with no progress — and an emergency C-section in the end regardless. I had endured the full pain of both. And even then, the baby came out barely breathing, her skin mottled blue, nearly lost before she ever truly arrived.

This time, no one was going to interfere with my decisions.

This child was mine. I was going to keep him safe.

Cavell, seeing that I was resolute, said nothing more and agreed to get me what I needed.

Once we'd settled the matter of the pregnancy, I asked him, "Do you have any friends who practice law?"

"Yeah, why?"

His tone was casual.

Mine was equally so. "I need someone to draft a divorce agreement. I want a divorce."

"What?"

Cavell let out a sharp cry. Even through the phone, I could hear the clatter of his water glass tipping over and the frantic sound of him wiping down his desk.

I sighed. "You're a doctor. Can you not be a little more composed?"

"Don't change the subject," Cavell said. "You were completely in love with Kael — what do you mean you want a divorce all of a sudden? Did that bastard do something to you? Tell me. I'll grab a knife and head over right now."

I couldn't help but laugh.

But as I laughed, tears slipped down my face.

This kind of unconditional, unquestioning loyalty — I had never once received it from my husband or my daughter in five years. And here it was, coming from a friend.

It felt, genuinely, so good.

I wiped my eyes. "He's not worth going to prison over. Just send me your lawyer friend's contact."

"Done."

The moment I hung up, Cavell had already forwarded the attorney's card.

I kept my request simple: I would relinquish custody of my daughter, and all marital assets would be divided equally.

I was not about to walk away having given half my life to the Nightingale family and received nothing in return. I was not about to write off five years as a loss.

Those sports cars and villas Kael had gifted to Ivy, along with all the top-tier luxury goods — those were all marital assets, after all.

The love was gone. But the finances still needed to be settled.

The attorney had the agreement drafted quickly. I asked her to submit the filing to the court directly.

I had considered sitting down with Kael for a real conversation. But there was no longer any point in that.

I would simply wait for the court to deliver the summons to him.

He had never truly wanted to marry me in the first place, and he had never once treated me as his wife in all the years since.

When he received that summons, he would sign those papers without a moment's hesitation.