Chapter 1

My husband of six years treated me like a piece of meaningless furniture. He treated our daughter even worse, like a mistake he wished he could erase.

It wasn't until she was almost old enough for school that he finally bothered to give her a name.

But on the day his first love got a divorce, the man who was always so cold and stoic began to cry. He smiled through his tears as he stroked our daughter's cheek, whispering her name over and over.

"Summer... Summer..."

"You finally know how much I've been missing you, don't you？"

My five-year-old was finally enjoying her father's touch for the first time. She looked at me, caught between hope and fear.

"Mommy, does Daddy finally like me？" she asked.

I pulled her into a trembling hug, my heart breaking for her.

"No, baby. Daddy is saying goodbye to us. The person he loves is back, and it's time for us to make room."

01.

After finishing the bedtime story, I pulled out the divorce papers I had prepared and read through them carefully.

I had been married to Lucien Blackwood for six years, and I had endured six years of his icy indifference.

It was finally time to let go.

"Mommy..."

My daughter poked her head out from under the covers and whispered to me.

"Are we really leaving？"

Her eyes were swimming with tears, and her tiny hands gripped the edge of the blanket.

"But Daddy called me by my name today. He even let me call him Daddy."

"Does he not hate me as much anymore？"

I sat on the edge of her bed and gently wiped her tears. I choked back a sob, not knowing how to explain the cruel truth.

My daughter was five years old, but it wasn't until last year that Lucien finally gave her an official name.

He named her Summer. It was a beautiful name, and he had clearly put thought into it.

The tragedy was that her name was a forbidden word in our house.

It was a secret taboo because his first love, the woman who got away, was named Sommer.

Last year, our daughter had a high fever in the middle of the night. I couldn't get an Uber, so I begged him to drive us to the hospital.

When he heard the name "Summer" associated with a fever, he stood up in a panicked rush.

But the moment he realized I was talking about our daughter and not his precious Sommer, he sat back down with total indifference.

I had to carry our daughter through the freezing wind for an hour before we finally reached the ER.

All he did was send a cold text afterward.

"From now on, no one in this house is allowed to call her Summer."

Last month, my daughter brought home an award from preschool and proudly showed it to Lucien.

He took one look at it, his brow furrowing. Then, he ripped the certificate into pieces and threw them in her face.

She cried the whole night.

I stayed up to tape the pieces back together, and that's when I saw why he did it.

The teacher had written: "Congratulations to little Summer for winning first place in the art contest."

From that day on, my daughter understood that her father hated her. She became quiet and walked on eggshells around him.

I finally saw that my five years of effort had been for nothing.

Thinking about it now, my tears began to fall.

"Sweetie, the person Daddy loves is back. We have to be good girls and move out of the way."

My daughter lunged into my arms and gave me a tiny, hesitant kiss.

"Daddy hugged me today. It must be because I've been working so hard to be good, right？"

"If I'm even better, can we stay？ I don't want to..."

Her voice trailed off until it was barely a whisper.

I knew what she wanted to say. She didn't want to lose her father.

What child doesn't crave a father's love？ What child wants to be abandoned by their own parent？

I held her tight, my fingers shaking uncontrollably.

She didn't know that her name was just a symbol of Lucien's deep, bone-deep obsession with another woman.

She didn't know that the only reason he hugged her and called her name was because the real "Sommer" was finally coming back to him.

I couldn't bring myself to crush her tiny spark of hope. I had to swallow the pain that felt like a knife in my chest and maintain the fragile illusion.

I forced myself to stop crying and cupped her face.

"My baby is the best girl in the world. But the house is going to be too crowded, okay？ We have to leave."

Her eyelashes fluttered, and she looked down, looking utterly defeated.

"There are so many guest rooms... If there's no space, I can sleep in the basement..."

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. My nails dug into my palms.

The house had plenty of room, but Lucien's heart had never held a single inch of space for us.

"Honey, Daddy doesn't like it when the house is too full..."

"Will you come with Mommy？"

My daughter curled up in my arms and stared silently toward the direction of Lucien's study.

I closed my eyes and let out a long, weary sigh.

"I'll let you try three more times. If he still doesn't love us after three tries, we have to go. Deal？"

A little bit of light finally returned to her eyes, and she nodded seriously.