The Good Man

On our daughter’s fifth birthday, a photo appeared in Ava’s Instagram feed. An intimate shot, taken in bed.

The caption read: Someone missed her daddy before bed, and this good man flew right home to her. <3

The man in the photo was my husband, Ethan.

My phone was still warm from the text he’d sent me ten minutes earlier.

Something came up at the office. Not making it home tonight.

I calmly liked the photo.

Then, I called my divorce lawyer.

1

Ethan came home around two in the morning.

The sudden slash of light from the hallway cut through the darkness, and I instinctively shielded our daughter’s eyes.

He leaned against the doorframe, his voice a low drawl.

"Hey, I'm home. Get Lily up. I'll celebrate with her now."

I used to be the one who cherished these rituals. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, even kindergarten parent-teacher nights—I’d beg Ethan to be there. I didn’t want Lily to grow up knowing her father primarily through the screen of a phone, the way I had.

But now—

I smoothed the duvet, my voice flat.

"Don't bother."

A flicker of impatience crossed Ethan's face. "Clara, I just went over there to put her son to sleep. That’s it. You don't have to read into everything." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This is why I can't be honest with you. You're always so suspicious."

I wasn't reading into anything. And I wouldn't be suspicious anymore.

"If you're done, please go to your own room. Don't wake Lily. She has school in the morning."

My answer was met with a cold laugh. "Fine. But don't come crying to me later, saying I'm an absent father."

I turned away and switched off the bedside lamp, gently patting the back of my daughter, who had stirred at the sound of our voices.

Absent? It didn't matter anymore. After all, Lily’s only birthday wish this year had been whispered to me as I tucked her in:

"I don't want to see Daddy anymore."

The next morning, Ethan finished his breakfast but didn't leave for work as usual. Instead, he sat at the table, watching the morning news on his tablet. Just as I was getting Lily’s coat on, he grabbed his keys and walked over, ruffling her hair.

"Daddy's taking you to school today." The words were for Lily, but his eyes were locked on mine.

Two years ago, when Lily first started preschool, Ethan had driven her every single day. But after Ava came into the picture, he started leaving earlier and earlier, claiming his morning meetings had been moved up. He just didn't have the time.

I’d believed him. Until three months ago, when Lily switched schools. I was waiting at the gate and saw him. The man who was supposedly in a board meeting was leaning down, lifting a little boy from the backseat of his car.

It turned out he had time to take a child to school. Just not his own.

We had a terrible fight that night. The next day, Lily stopped asking for him to take her.

Even though I’d already made my decision, he was still her father. I hesitated for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

A corner of his mouth lifted in a small, triumphant smile as he bent down to scoop Lily into his arms.

When he opened the car door, I froze.

The back seat was a mess of someone else's life. A Spider-Man water bottle, a wooden toy bow and arrow set, a woman’s cashmere wrap thrown carelessly over the leather. Tucked into the seat-back pocket was a laminated, wallet-sized "family photo."

Ethan followed my gaze, and his expression tightened. "Ava just stuck that there. Said it makes her son, Leo, happy to see it." He shot me a warning look. "Don't start, Clara. It's not a big deal."

The old me would have snatched that picture and ripped it to shreds, would have screamed at him, demanding to know what Lily and I meant to him.

But now, I just nodded. "It's a nice picture."

He stared at me, a strange look in his eyes. "You're not angry?"

Angry? Maybe I should have been. But all I felt was a profound emptiness, a void where the anger used to be. It was almost funny. How could a man as sharp and calculating as Ethan Cole fall for such a clumsy, transparent play? The answer was simple. He didn't fall for it. He just didn't care.

"We should get going," I said, my voice even. "Lily's going to be late."

His lips thinned into a hard line as he pulled open the driver's side door.

Just as I was about to help Lily into her car seat, Ethan's phone rang. A cheerful, cartoonish jingle filled the quiet garage.

From the other end of the line, a little boy's frantic sobs were perfectly clear. "Daddy! Daddy, where did you go? Are you leaving Mommy and me?"

Ethan hung up. Without another glance at us, he slid into the driver's seat. "Leo's having a meltdown. I'll have the driver take you today."

The black Mercedes sped out of the driveway, leaving us in a cloud of exhaust. I worried Lily would be upset, so I crouched down to her level.

"Daddy has something important to do, sweetie. Next time he’s free, we’ll all go to school together, okay?"

Lily looked up at me, her small face set with a maturity far beyond her five years. "Daddy's never going to be free," she said quietly. "All his time is for Leo and his mom."

2

That evening, Ethan called.

"Clara, I'm going to be late tonight. Leo's running a fever…"

"Okay."

My quick agreement seemed to catch him off guard, his practiced explanation dying in his throat. He must have mistaken my calm for resentment, because his tone sharpened with annoyance.

"Clara, don't be dramatic." He hung up before I could reply.

Ten minutes later, a series of texts arrived.

I'm so sorry, Clara. Leo has been so clingy with his dad lately.

But honestly, Ethan shouldn't have just abandoned you and Lily the moment I called. That was wrong of him.

I'll be sure to give him a talking-to. Don't you be upset, okay?

The last message was punctuated by a cutesy, see-no-evil monkey emoji.

It was Ava. The texts weren't an apology; they were a declaration of war.

I had no interest in fighting her for a man I no longer wanted. I deleted the messages and blocked her number.

A moment later, my phone rang again. It was Ethan.

"Clara, what the hell is your problem? Ava reaches out to apologize, and you give her that kind of attitude?"

I could faintly hear a woman and a child crying in the background.

I said nothing. After a long, tense silence, his voice came back, low and steeped in disappointment.

"How did you become this person, Clara?" he asked softly. "I'm so disappointed in you."

It was always the same script. Ava would light the match, and the moment she started crying, Ethan would douse me in gasoline, making me out to be some kind of villain.

When I got home, I started packing.

While Ethan had been on the phone, I’d been on a call with my lawyer. The divorce would likely grant me at least 30% of the shares in Cole Industries. And in cases where both parents have similar financial means, custody of the child is typically awarded to the mother.

My last hesitation vanished.

Clothes, handbags, jewelry, Lily’s favorite stuffed animals—they all went into boxes.

As I sealed the last one, my hands trembled for a moment. My eyes landed on a dusty, wax-sealed trunk in the back of the closet.

It was full of letters—from the Ethan who was seventeen, all the way to twenty-two.

I broke the seal and pulled out the one on top.

It began:

To the 27-year-old Clara, from the 17-year-old Ethan.

This is the first love letter I've ever written you. As we promised, we'll open this together in ten years. I bet we're married by now. Maybe we even have a kid, a cute one.

My phone buzzed. On the screen was the name of the 27-year-old Ethan.

"Clara! Do you have any idea that Ava left with Leo? She took him and just left!" His voice was ragged with panic and fury. "If anything happens to them, I will never forgive you."

My eyes fell to the bottom of the letter I was holding.

Signed: The Ethan who will love Clara forever.

A sharp, stabbing pain shot through my chest, as if something delicate and essential had just shattered.

I ended the call and tossed the entire trunk into the fireplace.

3

Ethan didn't come home that night.

I didn't frantically call his phone, sobbing and promising I would leave Ava alone, the way I would have before. Lily didn't ask about her father either. She just quietly retrieved a framed photo of herself with Ethan from her bookshelf and tucked it into her own small suitcase.

A silent cold war settled between us. It lasted a week, until Lily's school needed a parent's consent form signed, a process that required facial recognition verification.

I tried calling Ethan, only to discover he had blocked my number.

Left with no choice, I drove to his office with the tablet.

I hadn't been waiting long in the lobby when a familiar figure swept past the reception desk and straight into Ethan's office.

The assistant, pouring me a glass of water, looked mortified. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Cole. Mr. Cole gave instructions that Ms. Vance can go into his office anytime."

That particular privilege Ava enjoyed was, ironically, my fault. I used to bring Ethan lunch every day. We’d sit in his office and talk for an hour. One day, Ava showed up, claiming she had an urgent matter to discuss. The new assistant, following protocol, asked her to wait. By the time Ethan walked me out, Ava and her son Leo were standing in the hallway, their lips blue from the cold.

That was the first time Ethan had ever truly lost his temper with me. He yelled, right there in the lobby, that my daily lunch deliveries were a waste of his valuable time. The assistant who had stopped Ava was fired on the spot.

From that day on, everyone at Cole Industries knew who the important woman in Ethan Cole's life was.

I never went back to his office again.

Until today.

I gave the nervous assistant a small, reassuring smile and walked toward the office.

Ethan was in a meeting. He looked surprised to see me. "What are you doing here?"

Ava was perched on the armrest of his leather chair, their bodies so close they were practically touching.

He noticed where I was looking and cleared his throat. "Clara, don't get the wrong idea. Ava happens to know a few things about this project, so…"

I just nodded, holding out the tablet. "Lily has a field trip. It needs parental consent."

"You came all the way down here for that?"

"What else would I be here for?"

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy. I didn't know why, but I knew Ethan well enough to recognize that he was in a foul mood.

Ava let out a little scoff. "What a complicated way to sign a form. Ethan, she just wants an excuse to make up with you. You've been staying at my place for days. It's probably time you went home to see Lily."

Ethan’s tense shoulders relaxed slightly. He tossed the tablet onto the coffee table and gave me a smirk. "Clara, now you're using our daughter as an excuse to get my attention." He leaned back. "Apologize to Ava. Otherwise, I'm not signing it."

Hearing those words used to send me into a spiral of rage. Rage that he cared so little for his own daughter, and even more rage that he would use her as a pawn for another woman.

But now, I felt nothing. My only thought was that if he didn't sign, Lily would miss her field trip, and she would be heartbroken.

I looked at Ethan, then at Ava, still sitting possessively on the arm of his chair. Without another word, I turned and walked out. I would just have to tell the school that Lily’s father wasn’t available.

I’d only taken a few steps down the hall when a crisp, low voice called out.

"Ms. Sinclair, if you don't mind, perhaps I could be of assistance."

It was the other man from the meeting in Ethan's office. He offered a wry smile. "After all, I feel like I've been an audience to your family matters for long enough."

I finally took a good look at him. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, exuding an air of quiet authority. His features were sharp, his eyes intelligent. He was clearly a man of significant means.

I handed him the tablet without hesitation. The verification process was completed in seconds. On the screen, the signature was rendered in a bold, elegant script:

Noah Prescott.

4

The divorce papers were drafted. I unilaterally ended our cold war with a text telling Ethan he needed to come home that night.

When I went to pick Lily up from kindergarten, his black Mercedes was already parked by the curb. The window rolled down, revealing Ava in the passenger seat, a triumphant smile on her face.

"Clara! Picking up your daughter?" she called out, her voice dripping with condescension. "This is a rather exclusive school, you know. Is that last season's coat you're wearing? You wouldn't want the other parents to talk."

I ignored her, moving further down the sidewalk.

Ava turned to the driver's seat, her expression shifting to one of wounded innocence. "Ethan, did I say something wrong? I think I made her angry."

For once, Ethan didn't reply. His gaze was fixed on my admittedly thin coat, and his voice was stiff when he finally spoke. "Clara, it's cold out. Get in the car."

I moved even farther away.

I couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened, but we had become strangers. So much so that even a simple expression of concern sounded forced and hollow.

As the classroom door opened, two children came tumbling out, tangled in a scuffle. My stomach dropped when I saw that one of them was Lily. I rushed over and pulled them apart, only then realizing the other child was Ava’s son, Leo.

He froze when he saw me, then immediately sat down on the pavement and burst into theatrical sobs. "Waaah! That lady hit me! It hurts, it hurts so much!"

Ethan and Ava hurried over. Ava swept her son into a hug, glaring at me. "Clara, I know you don't like me, but you can't take it out on a child. They were just roughhousing. There was no need to get violent."

Ethan’s disappointed gaze fell on me, as if he’d completely forgotten that Lily was his daughter, too.

The teacher looked pained. "Mrs. Cole, Ms. Vance… the children were arguing. They both saw Mr. Cole and started insisting that he was their father. It… escalated from there."

It was dismissal time, and a crowd of parents had gathered. The murmurs started immediately.

"Well, this is some drama. Fighting over a daddy? Is this the wife and the mistress?"
"That guy definitely looks loaded. Maybe the little boy is just confused."
"A kid that young being a gold digger? What are they teaching him at home?"

Leo was still wailing, clinging to Ethan's neck and crying "Daddy, Daddy."

But Lily… she just held my hand tightly, her eyes fixed on Ethan, not blinking.

The other children, sensing the drama, chimed in. "Mister, who's your real kid? You have to tell us! The one who's wrong has to apologize!"

Ethan opened his mouth. "I'm Lily's…"

At that moment, Ava gave his sleeve a tiny, desperate tug. Her eyes were wide with a silent plea.

I saw it happen in an instant. The flicker of hesitation in Ethan’s eyes, the slight shift in his posture. He was wavering. Just like the countless times before, one look from Ava was all it took for my daughter and me to become his second choice.

My jaw tightened. "Ethan," I said, my voice dangerously low. "The answer you give right now will follow Lily for the rest of her life. Think very carefully before you speak."

His body went rigid. His eyes were downcast, unreadable. Then, in a voice just loud enough for everyone to hear, he said, "I'm Leo's father." He looked at Lily, his expression cold. "I think you're mistaken, little girl."

My heart seized, a brutal, crushing blow that almost brought tears to my eyes. This was our daughter. Our daughter.

The circle of parents immediately turned on Lily.

"Can you believe that? Lying about who her father is and then hitting his real son."
"She hasn't even apologized. What a lack of manners."
"She's just jealous. Probably wants a rich daddy."
"Look at her mother. She doesn't exactly scream class. Probably put her up to it, hoping to snag a rich guy."

"Ethan, you are not a man…" I started, but was cut off by a sharp pain in my palm.

Lily was biting her lip, her grip on my hand astonishingly strong. Her eyes, which had been pleading moments before, were now dull and empty. "Mommy," she whispered. "Let's just go."

Then, she turned to Ethan, her small body stiff, and gave him a formal bow.

"I'm sorry, sir. I made a mistake."

5

In a quiet corner of a bakery, I held my daughter close.

"Lily, he is your father. I don't expect you to love him, but I don't want you to grow up with so much hate in your heart."

A small, toneless voice answered me. "I don't have a father, Mommy. You heard him. He's Leo's father."

I felt the crisp edges of the divorce papers in my purse. I booked two one-way tickets to Boston for that night.

My phone lit up with a text from Ethan, sent ten minutes earlier.

Clara, I'm sorry. But Leo comes from a single-parent home. In that situation, I had to lie. I'll go to the school tomorrow and clear everything up with her teacher. I won't let our daughter be wronged.

It was the first time he had ever apologized to me for something involving Ava. But it was too late. I didn't need his apology. And neither did Lily.

One last trip back to the house to get our passports and a few essentials, and we would be free of this city for good.

I expected the house to be empty. It wasn't. In fact, it was full of life.

In the living room, Leo was sitting on Lily's little armchair, playing with her favorite dollhouse while watching cartoons.

Ethan and Ava emerged from the kitchen carrying platters of food. They both froze when they saw us.

I frowned. We weren't even divorced yet, and he’d already moved her in.

"Ava felt she needed to apologize to you for what happened today," Ethan explained, his voice strained. "She was afraid you wouldn't think she was sincere, so she offered to cook dinner. These are all your favorite dishes."

A cold laugh escaped my lips. "A meal cooked by the two of you? I think I'll pass."

For once, Ethan didn't get angry. He knew he was in the wrong. He turned to the children. "Why don't you two go play in the bedroom for a while? Your mommy and I need to talk."

As soon as the kids were gone, Ava stepped forward, positioning herself neatly beside Ethan, a united front. "Clara, I am so sorry about today. It's all my fault. I should have corrected Leo sooner, he just started to believe Ethan was his real father. If it bothers you this much, I'll take Leo and leave New York. We'll never bother you and Ethan again."

As she spoke, her eyes welled up with tears.

I looked at this woman, remembering the first time we met. Her husband, a childhood friend of Ethan's, had just died. She had knelt before us, a grieving widow with a young child, looking utterly helpless.

Looking back now, I realized that must have been the moment Ethan's heart began to stray. What man could resist a beautiful, dark-haired woman kneeling at his feet, telling him he was her only hope for the future?

I smiled, a thin, sharp smile, and pulled the divorce papers from my purse.

"You don't have to leave. I will." I placed the papers on the table. "Ethan, let's get a divorce. Then you can be Ava's wonderful husband and Leo's wonderful father, openly and honestly."

Ethan's face darkened, his eyes turning stormy. "Clara, are you threatening me?"

I nodded slowly. "You could call it that."

He let out a laugh that was pure fury. "Do you really think I'm afraid of you? How many times do I have to tell you? Her husband was my best friend. We made a promise that if anything happened to one of us, the other would take care of his family. Why do you have to be so petty and insecure?"

My voice was calm, detached. "You're right. I am petty and insecure. You're a man of great integrity, Mr. Cole. Please don't lower yourself to my level. Just sign the papers."

His face contorted with rage at my indifference. He snatched the agreement from the table, and without even reading it, scrawled his name across the signature line. He threw the papers at my feet.

"There, I signed it. Now what, Clara? Do you have the guts to actually leave?"

I bent down to pick up the documents. Before I could speak, Leo came running out of the bedroom, sobbing. "Waaah! Daddy, Lily hit me!"

A long, bloody scratch ran down his cheek.

Ethan's glare could have set me on fire. "Clara, look at the kind of daughter you've raised!"

Lily appeared in the doorway behind him. "Mommy, I didn't touch him. He fell down by himself."

"Lily Cole, you've learned to lie, too!" Ethan roared. "Apologize to Leo right now! Do you hear me?"

Lily just stared at him, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Seeing his chance, Leo cried even louder. "Waaah! Daddy, it hurts!"

Ethan’s voice dropped to an icy chill. "Lily, I don't like children who lie. You've disappointed me."

Lily opened her mouth to argue, but I stopped her. "Ethan, we have security cameras in this house. Why don't we just check the footage and see who's lying?"

At the mention of cameras, Ava's eyes darted nervously. She quickly tried to smooth things over. "Oh, let's not. It's normal for kids to get into little fights. There's no need to make a big deal out of it. Leo's the older brother; it's okay if his little sister hits him once or twice."

"It's not okay with me," I said, my voice hard. "My daughter will not be falsely accused. We are watching that footage."

Seeing my resolve, Ethan stalked over to the security monitor and pulled up the recording.

The footage was crystal clear. Leo had tripped and scratched his own face on the corner of a toy chest.

Ava started stammering excuses. "Ethan, he's just a child. He was probably just scared, that's why he lied. Maybe Lily has bullied him before, and that's why he reacted that way."

But Ethan wasn't listening. His eyes were glued to the top left corner of the screen, at a time-stamped recording from the night before.

The footage showed me, standing in front of the fireplace, tossing a large trunk into the flames. My movements were swift, decisive, without a hint of hesitation.

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