I stared at the glowing screen of my phone.
*Did you enjoy the view, Lynn?*
The sender knew I was here. They were watching me.
I shoved the phone into my coat pocket and marched around the corner of the newsstand. I didn't hide. I didn't cower in the shadows.
"Ethan!"
My voice echoed off the brick buildings, sharp and loud.
The three of them stopped beside a sleek black SUV. Ethan’s hand instantly dropped from Mia’s waist. He spun around, his posture stiffening.
"Lynn?" Ethan frowned. His tone held irritation, not guilt. "What are you doing here?"
"Drowning in paperwork, Ethan?" I asked, closing the distance between us.
Mia stepped back, putting a few inches between herself and my husband. She smoothed down the front of her silk dress.
"I can explain this," Ethan said, moving to block my view of her.
"Explain what?" I demanded. "That you skipped my birthday dinner to play house with your assistant?"
"Keep your voice down," Ethan snapped. He glanced up and down the empty street. "You are making a scene."
"I am making a scene? You lied to me. You said Leo was at your mother's house."
"Because I knew you would react exactly like this," Ethan fired back. He didn't flinch. His eyes locked onto mine, cold and unyielding. "Mia isn't just an assistant. She is a professional piano instructor."
I let out a harsh, abrupt laugh. The sound scraped my throat.
"A piano instructor? Are you insane?"
"She has a master's degree from Juilliard," Ethan stated, his voice perfectly level. "The city youth piano competition is coming up in three months. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a tutor of her caliber? I paid a premium to get her to work with Leo after hours."
"By taking her to *Lumiere*?" I pointed at the restaurant down the block. "Since when does Leo need a tutor at nine at night?"
"Since my schedule finally opened up," Mia chimed in. Her voice was sugary sweet, entirely devoid of intimidation. "Mr. Miller pays very well for my time."
"Keep quiet," I snapped at her.
Ethan stepped directly into my space, forcing me to look up at him. "Do not speak to her like that."
"Or what, Ethan? You will fire her? Or break up with her?"
"Tonight was about building rapport," Ethan said, ignoring my accusation. "Leo hates practicing. He hates new teachers. I needed them to bond outside of a classroom setting. If I told you the truth, you would have micromanaged the entire evening and ruined his progress."
"You had your arm around her waist. I saw you."
"She tripped on the curb, Lynn. I caught her." He shook his head, his upper lip curling into a sneer. "Is this what you do now? Spy on me? Accuse me of cheating because I am trying to give our son an advantage?"
"Do not use Leo as an excuse for your lies!"
"Mom, shut up!"
The shout didn't come from Ethan.
I whipped my head around. Leo stood next to Mia, his small hands balled into tight fists. His face was flushed with anger.
"Leo," I said, my voice cracking. I stepped around Ethan and reached out. "Come here, sweetie. We are going home."
He slapped my hand away.
The smack stung my skin. I stared at his red face, entirely stunned.
"Do not touch me," Leo yelled. "You always ruin everything!"
"Leo, I am your mother—"
"Mia is nicer than you!" he screamed, stepping backward until his back pressed against Mia’s legs. "She bought me ice cream. She actually listens to me. You just yell all the time!"
The physical pain in my chest rivaled a heart attack. My own son.
Mia rested her hands gently on Leo’s shoulders. She didn't look at me. She looked at Ethan, playing the role of the concerned bystander to perfection.
"Maybe I should go, Ethan," Mia murmured softly. "I do not want to cause trouble for your family."
"You are not causing trouble," Ethan told her. He shifted his glare back to me. "Look at what you are doing, Lynn. You are terrifying our son."
"I am terrifying him? You brought him into this!"
"You followed us like a crazy person!" Ethan roared. The sudden volume made me jump. "You sit at home, inventing problems, suffocating me with your paranoia. I work eighty hours a week to pay for your lifestyle, and this is the thanks I get? A screaming match on the street?"
"It is my birthday, Ethan. I sat in an empty restaurant for three hours."
"And you made it all about you. As usual." He pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the SUV. "Get in the car, Leo."
Leo scrambled into the backseat without a backward glance.
Mia walked around to the passenger side. She paused by the door, finally meeting my eyes. A tiny, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. Then, she slid into the front seat.
"Are you coming?" Ethan demanded, his hand resting on the driver's door.
"You expect me to get in that car?"
"Suit yourself." Ethan opened his door. "When you are done throwing your tantrum, you can take a cab home. I am not dealing with this tonight."
He slammed the door shut.
The engine roared to life. The headlights washed over me, blindingly bright, before the SUV pulled away from the curb.
I stood alone on the pavement.
The taillights disappeared into the city traffic, leaving me in the dark.
A freezing gust of wind whipped past me, biting through my thin coat. I wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to hold myself together. My husband had twisted reality so effortlessly, making me the villain in my own life. And he had used my son as a shield.
I did not cry. The shock had burned the tears out of me.
I hailed a taxi on the corner.
"Everything alright back there, ma'am?" the driver asked, catching my eye in the rearview mirror.
"Just drive," I said.
The ride back to our suburban house passed in a blur of streetlights and shadows. I paid the fare and walked up the long driveway.
The house was completely dark. Ethan had not left the porch light on for me.
I unlocked the front door and stepped into the silent foyer. The stillness of the house pressed heavily against my ears. I kicked off my shoes and walked into the kitchen.
The digital clock on the oven read 11:42 PM.
My birthday was almost over.
I dropped my leather tote bag onto the marble island. It tipped over, spilling the wrapped gifts I had bought for them. The vintage cufflinks. The limited-edition console.
I stared at the shiny wrapping paper.
Then, I swept my arm across the counter.
The boxes crashed onto the hardwood floor.
I sank into the nearest barstool, gripping the edge of the counter until my knuckles turned white. Ethan’s voice echoed in my head. *Paranoia. Suffocating. Crazy.*
He was gaslighting me. He had rehearsed that excuse. The Juilliard degree. The piano competition. It was too perfect, too ready.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
I pulled it out.
Another text message from the same unknown number lit up the screen.
*He told Leo you are mentally unstable. He is filing for full custody on Monday. Check his home office safe.*
My pulse hammered in my throat.
I stared at the words, the screen blurring slightly.
Full custody?
I pushed myself off the stool and stared down the dark hallway leading to Ethan's study.
