It was my daughter's birthday, and Ferris Delgado rushed out the door again to take care of his deranged sister-in-law.
I'd spent five hours cooking. He didn't touch a single bite.
"Noreen Winfield, you know how Bess is. She's not right in the head, and I'm worried something might happen to her. I'll make it up to you and Joy tomorrow, okay? We'll do the birthday then."
After his older brother died, Bess Summers had latched onto Ferris, calling him "honey" day and night, convinced he was her late husband.
She'd even had a child with him.
When I was in a car accident, Ferris abandoned me without a second thought, claiming he needed to help Bess with her breast engorgement.
We'd divorced seven times. Every single time, he got on his knees and begged me to take him back.
But this time, I was done forgiving.
I looked at my daughter Joy Abbott's disappointed little face, pulled out the divorce papers, and stepped in front of him.
"You can leave. But sign these first."
Ferris snatched the papers from my hand, his eyes bloodshot. Without so much as a glance at the terms, he scrawled his name and hurled the document at my face.
"How many times are we going to do this? You think it's funny? Still using divorce to threaten me? You're pathetic enough that you'll come crawling back in a few days begging me to remarry you anyway!"
I'd given him eight chances. All I had to show for it were eight divorce certificates.
But he didn't know.
This time, I meant it.
He also hadn't noticed that the agreement he'd just signed gave him nothing. Every asset, every cent, gone.
……
Pages of A4 paper scattered through the air. Joy hid behind the table, trembling.
Ferris didn't spare her a shred of sympathy. He looked at us both with undisguised contempt.
"I've told you a thousand times. Our family wronged Bess. I owe it to my brother to make it up to her."
"Can you stop being so paranoid for one damn day?"
I stared at him, my expression hollow.
"Is that so? And her having your baby counts as making it up to her too?"
His hand shot up, palm open, ready to strike. But at the last second, his fingers curled into a fist that shook at his side.
"For our daughter's sake, I won't hit you."
"But if you say one more word against Bess, I swear to God I won't hold back."
Three-year-old Joy didn't understand what was happening between us.
All she knew was that her father was leaving on her birthday without looking back. She ran after him and grabbed the hem of his pants, her small fingers white-knuckled.
Ferris kicked her away without hesitation.
"You're just like your mother. I said I'd make it up to you. Are you too stupid to understand?"
Seconds ago, he'd claimed he was sparing me for our daughter's sake. Now he was the one hurting her.
His phone rang.
The hardness in his face melted instantly, replaced by something soft.
On the other end, Bess's voice came through, fragile and frantic between sobs.
"Honey! Honey! Where are you?!"
"I'm so scared. The baby won't stop crying. Please come home. Please?"
Ferris shook his head, anxious and helpless at once.
"Shh, it's okay, sweetheart. I'm right here. I'm coming home now."
Every gentle word was a knife twisting deeper into my chest, carving me open until there was nothing left but a raw, bleeding wound.
The door slammed shut. The sound echoed through the empty room.
He was gone.
He used to talk to me that way.
If he was even an hour late getting home from work, he'd worry I was upset.
"Hey, sweetheart, I had to stay late, but I picked up a little cake for you. Wait for me, okay?"
Whenever he traveled for business, he'd call me and we'd talk for hours about nothing. On stormy nights when thunder rattled the windows, he'd stay on the line telling me fairy tales until I fell asleep.
Until the day of my accident.
Ferris ran seven red lights racing to get to me.
But the moment he lifted me into the car, Bess's breasts became engorged.
Her voice on the phone, calling him "honey" over and over, made him itch to go to her.
He set me back down on the ground without a moment's hesitation.
"Bess is in pain from the engorgement. I'm the only one who can relieve it."
"If you come with me, she'll lose it and throw a jealous fit. I already called you an ambulance. Just stop making a scene."
I lay there watching the blood pool between my legs and his retreating silhouette, crying so hard I couldn't breathe.
