Chapter 3

I loved Talia so much.

After all, I had risked my life to give birth to her.

For five years, I poured all my patience and love into her.

Ian just threw her to the nanny, but strangely, Talia adored him.

Talia was always a little smarter than other kids.

When she was three, she told me, "Mommy, you're useless. That's why Daddy doesn't want to come home."

I didn't think much of it at the time.

Then, when she was four, she met Ian's assistant, Wendy, for the first time.

She came home and told me, "Mommy, no wonder Daddy likes Auntie Wendy. I like her too."

"Auntie Wendy is so much better than you. She's nicer, smarter, and prettier."

...

One time, just because I wouldn't let her eat some greasy fast food, she threw a tantrum, screaming that she wanted Auntie Wendy to be her mom.

I swallowed the hurt and held her, trying to soothe her. "Talia, sweetie, Mommy made you a special burger, it tastes almost the same as the ones you buy, and it's much healthier."

She slapped the plate out of my hand, sending the burger to the floor.

"I don't want your gross homemade burger! I want the one Auntie Wendy buys me from the street cart!"

"I'll eat it even if it gives me a stomachache!"

"And I don't want you to be my mom! You're useless!"

I just stared at her, stunned.

The daughter I nearly died for wanted to trade me in for a hamburger.

There were countless other incidents like that. Anything from Wendy was a treasure; anything from me was garbage.

I tried talking to Ian about it.

The first few times, he told me not to argue with a child.

After that, he got impatient and told me to reflect on myself and figure out why my own daughter didn't like the things I bought for her.

For her fifth birthday, Talia’s only wish was for Wendy to become her new mom.

A daughter whose heart I could never win over... what was the point?

...

The next morning, Ian and I went and filed the divorce papers.

Coming out of the courthouse, Ian left me standing on the steps and drove straight to his office.

Back at the house, I started packing. I realized I didn't have much to pack. Everything fit into a single suitcase.

All these years, most of the things I'd bought were for Ian and Talia.

As I dragged my suitcase to the door, Talia was sitting in the living room, eating a hamburger and watching her tablet.

I didn't tell her to stop eating. I just said flatly, "Talia, I'm leaving."

She finally looked up. "Where are you going?"

"You don't need to know where I'm going. I won't be picking you up from preschool anymore. Remember not to go with strangers."

Talia gave me a disdainful look, an exact copy of her father's expression.

"You're lying, Mommy. Daddy said no one wants you, so you just cling to him shamelessly."

"Sienna, can you not be so childish? You're a grown-up, threatening Daddy by running away from home."

"Auntie Wendy would never be as childish as you."

"If you're going to leave, then just go. I won't miss you."

Then she went back to her tablet.

If this were the past, I would have gently taken the tablet away and spent the afternoon playing Legos with her, taking her swimming, or going to the park.

I would have spent all my time giving her the companionship and security she needed.

But now, I didn't care anymore. Whoever wanted to take care of her could do it.

"Talia, just remember what you said."

With that, I turned and walked away.

I didn't look back, not even once, at the child I once held in my arms for twenty-four hours straight just so she could sleep peacefully through a fever.