rthday, and I was determined to make it perfect. I piped blue frosting onto a cupcake, my hand steady despite the unease knotting in my st

be home in time to see my draw

birthday for the world," I said, forcing

iant tech mogul, was rarely

. The screen lit up with a name

cupcakes. A moment later, my

"I'm swamped. Something's come up with the Eur

s birthday tomorr

e always said that, as if money could replace his presence. "Listen, I have to go. Scarlett

like a slap. He couldn't make it for his own daughter's

y store. A diamond necklace, purchased just yesterday. My heart sank. It wasn't for me. Underneath it was another receipt, a wire transfer confirmation for th

unds was listed as "S.

monds. A cold certainty washed over me. The balance of our marriage, already precarious, was

orful balloons and laughing children, but the guest of honor, her father, was absent. Lil

ang again. It was Mark, vide

squealed, r

iful woman with sharp, calculating eyes was beside him. Scarlett. And on he

aid, his smile looking straine

whispered, her eyes fixed

tt cooed, pushing her daughter f

expensive-looking doll. "My daddy got me this," she said, her voice dripping with a childish cruelt

ities, but she understood the taunt. She understood that her father was wit

e was looking at Scarlett, not at the scr

, holding her tight as she sobbed. I whispered reassurances I didn't fe

y meaningless. It wasn't the set of professional-grade art supplies Lily had circled in a catalog for months, the one she had

th a news alert. I clicked on it. The headline was from a popular gossip blog: "Tech Mogul Mark Davis Rekindles Romance

cafe. Mark was smiling, genuinely smiling, as he spoon-fed Daisy a bite of ice cream. H

undeniable, the

leased with himself. He didn't seem to notice the oppressive silence in the h

loosening his tie. "Lon

ght finally boiling over. I held up my phone, the pictu

voice dangerously quiet. "

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