Chapter 6
Nine hours later, the plane landed in Ardencraft.
I turned on my phone and found dozens of missed calls and messages, all from David.
Where are you?
What kind of mother are you? Leo was late for school. Don’t you care, Allera?
Are you seriously still sulking about me and your sister? Are you insane? She’s your sister. What do you think is going to happen?
How old are you, running away like this? You’re not even answering your father’s calls.
I stared at the messages.
The emotions I had thought were dead stirred faintly, then sharpened into pain, tiny barbs dragging through my limbs until my heart ached with a thousand pinpricks.
I called him back.
David answered with a hangover-thick voice.
“Are you still mad about yesterday? It was a joke.”
“And now you’re abandoning your son over it?”
“David,” I said wearily, “it’s only a joke if the other person finds it funny. If someone slapped you, would you be laughing?”
He fell silent.
I continued softly. “I’m going to be very busy for a while. You’ll have to take care of Leo.”
I said I was leaving Leo in David’s care.
But after a long day of setting up the new dessert shop, I still couldn’t shake the worry.
That night, I carefully typed out a long list of instructions and started sending it to him. I reminded him that Leo’s water bottle needed fresh water every day and that he had to remember to drink it at school.
Then David sent back a video.
My fingers froze over the keyboard.
I opened it.
It was Rosalie treating Leo to KFC. Leo was gnawing on a burger and saying brightly, “Auntie Rosalie, who cares if Mom doesn’t come back? I think you’d be a way better mom for me.”
Rosalie glanced shyly at David, who was filming.
“Don’t say things like that, sweetie. Your dad has to agree first.”
The video ended.
A moment later, David texted me.
Do you regret it? Are you sad? What stupid business of yours is so important? See? You’ve been gone for one day and your son has already replaced you.
Slowly, character by character, I deleted the long message I had been typing.
Then I replied.
If one day can erase years of my devotion, then it is my failure as a mother for not teaching him gratitude. And it is your failure as a father not only to allow this, but to revel in being fought over by two women. David, I think it is time I seriously reconsider our relationship.