A House That Was Never A Home

I moved back into the apartment I'd bought before getting married. It wasn't much, but it was mine. In fact, it was the only valuable asset I had left in my name.

At one point, I had even planned to transfer ownership to Evie. In my eyes, that was the most sincere kind of love a father could give—something solid, something lasting. But then Skyler made an offhand remark. "That place is old and run-down. How could Evie ever be comfortable living there? It's beneath someone from the Sorrell family."

And just like that, Evie—having been raised in comfort and luxury—agreed with him. She threw a tantrum, screaming and crying, refusing to even consider it. "I don't want to live in a dump! I want to live in Mommy's villa!"

Watching her kick and scream, something inside me went cold.

Selena rushed to comfort her, scooping her up with pity in her eyes. "Don't cry, sweetheart. Mommy would never let you live in a place like that."

Then she turned and shot me a scathing look. "Colin, what the hell is wrong with you? You think I'd let my daughter live in that kind of place? You want her to end up as pathetic as you?"

I couldn't understand how something done out of love—out of a father's devotion—could be twisted into something so cruel, so unforgivable. But I said nothing. Just swallowed it down and forced a smile. "Forget it. I won't transfer it."

Back then, I still tried to comfort myself by saying she was just a child—too young to understand, too innocent to be blamed. But if she truly loved me as her dad, how could she say things that cut so deep? The truth was always there. I had just refused to see it.

Now, with no one else to tend to, I suddenly had a lot of free time. I made myself a meal I actually liked—slow, unhurried, just for me—and then finally watched that game I had been meaning to catch for months. Simple things. Things I never had the space to enjoy in that house.

Selena loved spicy food. Evie was allergic to seafood. And me? I couldn't handle spice and loved seafood more than anything. But back then, I adjusted. Cooked what they liked. Thought about what they wanted. Considered everyone's feelings—all except my own.

I had erased myself to make room for them.

A sudden shrill ring yanked me from my thoughts. I picked up my phone and saw Selena's name flashing on the screen.

I hesitated, debating whether to block her, but I knew her temper too well. If I ignored this call, another one would follow soon. Better to get things over with.

"What is it?"

There was a pause on the other end before she finally spoke, her voice already laced with irritation. "Where did you put that brooch I had custom-made last month?"

I thought for a moment. "Second-to-last drawer in the walk-in closet."

She found it quickly, and her tone shifted, becoming smug and condescending. "If you weren't the only one who knew where everything is in the house, I wouldn't have even bothered calling you."

I didn't respond. I was about to hang up when she spoke again. "Alright, you've had your little tantrum. Now come home already. My patience isn't endless. Because you weren't around tonight, Evie didn't like the nanny's cooking and barely ate. Doesn't it hurt your heart to know your daughter went to bed hungry? And another thing—"

I cut her off, my voice cold and final. "I'll leave instructions with the nanny about where everything important is later tonight. After that, don't call me again. Whatever happens with Evie is no longer my concern. I don't want to know. And just so we're clear, I wasn't joking about the divorce. We're done. For good."