The Family He Threw Away

During a meeting, my son's preschool teacher called to say he had a 102-degree fever.

I couldn't get away, so I texted my husband to pick him up.

It wasn't until the meeting ended that the teacher called again.

What kind of parents are you? Your kid is so sick he can barely stay conscious. Are you coming or not?

I dumped the stack of files on my desk and grabbed a cab straight to the preschool.

My son's little face was red with fever, and he started crying when he saw me. I didn't have time to comfort him, so I scooped him up and rushed him to the ER.

When he finally broke the fever and fell asleep, I collapsed into the visitor's chair and opened my phone.

Half an hour earlier, my husband's female client had sent me a message.

"Ava, I'm so jealous you have such a great husband."

"He found out I had a fever and a cold, bought me medicine, and even came over himself to take care of me."

"If you like him, take him. A scumbag and a slut are a perfect match."

After sending it, I turned off my phone.

At 2 a.m., the hallway in the pediatric hospital was finally quiet.

After Noah's fever broke, he slept soundly, his tiny hand still clinging tightly to the hem of my shirt.

I stared at the drip line as the medicine fell drop by drop, and my phone screen lit up again.

Ryan's third message.

"Something came up with a client, and I can't get away. Hang in there for me."

Hang in there for me.

My son had a 102-degree fever, the preschool teacher had called four times, and he was taking care of another woman, then casually tossing me a "hang in there for me."

I didn't reply. I just dialed his number.

It rang six times before he answered.

It was loud on his end, with music, clinking glasses, and a woman's coy laughter.

"Hello?" Ryan's voice was a little slurred. He'd been drinking.

"Noah's in the hospital."

"I know. Didn't you already pick him up? What did the doctor say?"

"Viral infection. Fever hit 104.4."

"Then keep him in the hospital and spend the money if you have to. Don't be cheap."

The woman beside him laughed again. I couldn't make out what she said, but Ryan was replying to her, his voice so gentle it was almost painful to hear.

"Noah wants to see you."

My voice was very calm when I said that.

"I really can't get away right now. Mr. Bennett landed a huge contract today, then got sick at the celebration dinner, and nobody's taking care of him. I have to stay with him. Tell Noah Dad will come see him early tomorrow morning."

The call ended.

I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles turned white.

Noah must have woken up at some point. He was dazed from the fever and softly murmured, "Dad."

I pulled him into my arms and pressed my chin against his burning forehead.

"Dad is busy. Mom's here. Mom is always here."

At seven the next morning, Ryan still hadn't come.

At nine, the nurse came to remove the IV. Noah cried from the pain, still calling for Dad.

I coaxed him for a long time before he finally fell asleep, then picked up my phone to order takeout when a text popped up.

It was from that female client, Chloe.

It was a breakfast photo.

A beautifully plated spread, pour-over coffee, and a plate of sliced fruit.

"Someone said he didn't take good care of me last night, so he insisted on bringing me breakfast first thing in the morning to make it up to me. So thoughtful."

Someone.

I didn't open the full image, but I knew that dining table. It was the island in my kitchen.

The tableware I bought, the tablecloth I picked out, the solid wood table I wiped down three times a week.

Now it was holding coffee that belonged to another woman, photographed by another woman, and sent to me as a provocation.

I set my phone face down by the bed and took three deep breaths.

Then I opened my contacts and found one person.

"Brooke, help me set up a lawyer. The sooner, the better."

Megan was my college roommate and had opened her own law firm. She focused on family law.

She texted back instantly: "You've made up your mind?"

"I have."

"I'll set it up right away. Don't do anything rash, and make sure you keep the evidence."

Evidence.

I opened my chat history with Ryan and scrolled back three months.

"Working late tonight, not coming home for dinner."

"Out of town this weekend, take Noah to your mom's place."

"Dinner with a client. I'll be home later."

The excuses kept piling up, and he came home less and less.

I used to think he was really busy. After all, his startup had just gotten off the ground, and a lot of socializing made sense.

It wasn't until last month, at Noah's preschool parent event, when he promised he'd come and then said he suddenly had a meeting that day.

I stayed with Noah to do crafts and play games by myself, while the other parents looked at me with nothing but pity.

One mom leaned over and asked in a low voice, "Is your husband super busy with work? I've never seen him."

Back then, I still covered for him.

"Yeah, it's a startup. There's nothing we can do."

Now that I think about it, he wasn't busy.

He just spent all his time on someone else.

At two in the afternoon, Noah's fever finally broke, and he had a little more energy. He kept clamoring for strawberries.

I went downstairs to buy some. On the way past the convenience store at the hospital entrance, I caught sight of a black Porsche out of the corner of my eye.

The license plate looked familiar.

It was Ryan's car.

He was here?

I subconsciously looked into the car, but there was no one in the driver's seat.

I carried the strawberries back inside. As soon as I entered the hospital lobby, I saw two people standing by the elevator.

The woman was the same female client who had messaged me before, Chloe.

She wore a pale yellow dress, her hair in big waves, and had her arm linked through Ryan's as she smiled like a flower.

Ryan was dressed in a suit and tie, his hair perfectly slicked back. He was carrying a fruit basket and a bouquet of red roses.

Red roses.

He brought red roses to a pediatric hospital.

I stood in the middle of the lobby and watched them laughing and chatting as they walked into the elevator.

Ryan didn't look my way once.

My phone buzzed. It was a message from him.

"I'm at the hospital. Which room is Noah in?"

I didn't reply. I just carried the strawberries upstairs at a slow pace.

When I pushed open the door to the room, Ryan was already there.

He was sitting by the bed, showing Noah something on his phone, while the fruit basket and roses sat on the bedside table, glaringly obvious.

When Noah saw me, he happily shouted, "Mom! Dad's here! He brought me something tasty too!"

Ryan looked up and smiled at me.

He'd practiced that smile for years. Warm, polite, and flawless.

"You've worked hard. I rushed over as soon as I finished up over here. Noah's okay now, right?"

I set down the strawberries, picked up the red roses from the bedside table, and tossed them into the trash.

Ryan's smile froze.

"What are you doing?"

"The pediatric hospital doesn't need roses."

"Those were for Mr. Bennett's niece. I just happened to bring them here."

I looked at him and suddenly found him hilarious.

This man was so lazy about lying that he didn't even bother to make it sound convincing anymore.

"Noah, Mom's going to wash the strawberries." I didn't answer him and took the strawberries into the bathroom.

The faucet ran loudly as I washed them again and again, until all the sourness in my eyes was forced back down.

When I came out, Ryan was standing by the window on the phone, his voice kept very low.

"Yeah, I'll come over tonight... I know, you go ahead and order... okay, love you."

He said the last two words very softly, but I heard them clearly.

He telling me he loved me was three years ago.

I held Noah and fed him strawberries, one at a time, very slowly.

Ryan hung up and walked over, trying to pick Noah up, but Noah pushed him away.

"I want Mom!"

Ryan's face changed for a second before he quickly recovered.

"Our son is close to you. Nothing I can do about that."

When he said that, there was a hint of complaint in his tone, as if Noah not being close to him was my fault.

I didn't say a word.

He stood there for a while, then checked his watch.

"Then I'm going. I still have stuff to do at the company."

"Wait."

He turned back at the door.

"Noah had a 104.4-degree fever last night. He cried and called for Dad. He called you six times, and you didn't answer a single one."

"I-"

"You said you'd be here first thing this morning, and it's now three in the afternoon."

"I came, didn't I?"

"To bring roses?"

Ryan's expression darkened. "Ava, are you looking for a fight today? Didn't I say I had social obligations these next few days? Mr. Bennett is our company's biggest client. If you offend her, are you going to take responsibility?"

"Is your son more important or is the client more important?"

"How can you compare them? I'm busting my ass for this family too."

"For this family?" I stood up and stared into his eyes. "Our son was lying in the hospital with a high fever, and you were out there taking care of another woman. And you call that doing it for this family?"

Ryan's eyes flickered.

"How do you know... Did you check up on me?"

"I don't have time to check up on you, but next time remember to keep your female clients in line. Don't let them send me messages."

His face changed completely.

"Ava, my relationship with Mr. Bennett is purely business. Stop being unreasonable."

"I'm not causing a scene." I sat back down and pulled Noah into my arms. "Go. Noah needs to rest."

Ryan opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but in the end he slammed the door and left.

The sound of the door made Noah flinch. He looked up at me and asked, "Mom, is Dad mad?"

"No. Dad's just really busy."

"But I don't want him to go. I want him to stay with me."

I kissed his forehead and said nothing.

There were some things I couldn't say to a three-year-old.

Your dad may never come back to stay with you.

This family might be falling apart.

That night, Brooke sent me a lawyer's contact card.

"Ms. Grant, the best divorce lawyer in the business. I booked you for 10 a.m. the day after tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"Ava, have you thought it through? Do you know Ryan's asset situation?"

I scrolled through my phone gallery.

Over the past three months, I'd taken a lot of screenshots.

The selfies Chloe sent me on the nights Ryan said he was working late.

The hotel location and couple's dinner Chloe posted on the weekend he said he was on a business trip.

And the breakfast photo from this morning, taken in my kitchen.

"I know. I have enough evidence too."

"All right, see you the day after tomorrow."

After hanging up, I leaned back in the visitor's chair and stared at the ceiling.

Noah was already asleep, breathing evenly, his little hand still clutching the hem of my shirt.

I suddenly thought of seven years ago, when Ryan knelt in front of me to propose.

Back then, he had just started his business, and he was broke. The ring was silver, and the diamond was so small you could barely see it.

But his eyes were bright like stars, and he said he would definitely treat me and our child well for the rest of his life.

We got married the second year, Noah was born, and the company also started getting on track.

I thought life would only get better.

Now that I think about it, it was probably from that time on that he got busier and busier.

Busy enough to not have time for his son, busy enough to forget there was still a wife at home waiting for him.

My phone buzzed again.

It wasn't Ryan. It was Chloe.

She sent a new message.

The location was a high-end Japanese restaurant in town.

The photo showed a table full of food, and across from it sat someone whose face wasn't visible, only one hand.

I recognized that hand.

A platinum wedding band, the anniversary gift I gave him last year, sat on his ring finger.

I took a screenshot and saved it in my encrypted album.

Then I turned off my phone and closed my eyes.

On the third day of Noah's hospitalization, his fever finally broke for good.

The doctor said we could go home after one more day of observation, and I finally let out a breath and took time off work.

I was a creative director at an advertising company, and I happened to have a big project in hand. The client wanted the proposal next week.

But I couldn't think about that right now.

Megan's recommended lawyer was named Lena Grant. She was known in the circle as a steel magnolia and specialized in high-net-worth divorce cases. None of the cases she'd taken had ever lost.

I set up a meeting at the firm for 10 a.m. and arrived at 9:30.

Lena was younger than I expected, in her early thirties, with short hair and a sharp black suit. She spoke fast, but her logic was clear.

"Ms. Grant, Megan gave me a rough rundown of your situation. Show me the evidence."

I handed her my phone. She went through it for three minutes, and the crease between her brows only grew deeper.

"These messages and photos are useful, but not enough."

"What else do you need?"

"Bank statements, property records, company equity structure. If you can get his chats with that woman or hotel records, even better."

I was quiet for a moment.

"I don't really have access to the company side. The shares are all under his name."

"You've been married seven years, and the company was founded after the marriage. Under the law, you have half the rights."

Lena looked at me, her gaze sharp.

"The real question is how you want to split this. Agreement divorce or litigation?"

"If agreement is possible, that's best. I don't want this dragged out too long."

"Then let's talk first. Tell me your bottom line, and I'll draft the agreement."

When I walked out of the firm, it had started raining.

There were several messages on my phone, all from Ryan's mother.

"Ava, what's going on with you and Noah? Ryan says you're throwing a fit and picking fights with him. As a wife, can't you be more understanding of your husband?"

I didn't reply.

No matter what happened, her son was always right, and I was always wrong.

The year Noah was born, I had postpartum depression, and my mother-in-law said I was overthinking things.

When Ryan's startup failed, I took out my dowry money to plug the hole, and my mother-in-law said that was only right.

Now that he'd found someone else outside, my mother-in-law said I was making a scene.

I got into a rideshare and gave the driver the hospital address.

As we passed that Japanese restaurant, I glanced inside.

It was 11:30 a.m. and there weren't many people in the restaurant, but a woman was sitting by the window, drinking coffee.

Chloe.

She had changed into a white dress. No one was sitting across from her, but there were two coffees on the table.

The next second, my phone rang.

It was an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Ava, it's me, Chloe."