On Dominic's birthday, I found myself alone, staring at a table filled with dishes. I waited for Dominic to return with our daughter, Noelle, but instead, I got another taunt from his assistant, Melina. The video showed Dominic and Melina in matching outfits, passionately kissing in his downtown apartment. By now, I'd grown used to such videos.

What crushed me was hearing my five-year-old daughter's voice at the end. "Aunt Melina is so pretty and talented, not like my mom. I want Melina to be my mom," Noelle said. In that moment, I lost the will to pretend this already broken marriage could be saved. When I handed Dominic the divorce papers, he thought I was overreacting.

"Dominic, let's get a divorce," I said.

He looked confused for a moment then let out a mocking laugh. "Romina, when did you start pulling stunts like this? What would you do without me? Remember, the house you live in, the car you drive, all of this is thanks to me."

Both Dominic and Noelle had that anticipatory look in their eyes, as if waiting for something entertaining to unfold. As I listened to his insults, I realized how low I ranked in his world. Even June, our nanny, probably mattered more; at least she got paid. No wonder Noelle saw me as inept. Like father, like daughter, I suppose.

They both thought I couldn’t survive without this family, so they felt free to trample on my dignity. I handed Dominic the divorce papers I'd already signed and said firmly, "I'm not joking, Dominic. Let's divorce."

Dominic glanced at the agreement and let out a cold laugh. "Romina, you want to divorce over just this small amount of money?"

Each time Dominic got angry and mentioned divorce, he'd talk about giving me five million in a settlement. For him, it was pocket change, but for me, it was enough to live comfortably.

Dominic stood up, towering over me. "Is this really all about the money?"

"You don’t even want your precious daughter anymore?"

I chuckled. "No, I don't."

My response stunned the father-daughter duo across from me. Noelle was quick to react, jumping up and cheering. "Does that mean Aunt Melina can be my mom now?"

I looked at Noelle, who was bursting with joy, and said softly, "Yes, congratulations, you can have a new mom."

In stark contrast to Noelle's happiness, Dominic glared at me, trying to read my expression. Seeing my serious and determined face, he threw the divorce papers down in anger. "Romina, after all we've been through, you suddenly go mad?"

"Yes, I'm suddenly going mad."

"It won't matter if you disagree. I can file for divorce, and it will be more embarrassing for you if it goes public."

Moments later, Dominic snatched the divorce papers, signed his name with a sneer, and tossed them back to me. "Are you happy now?"

"Romina, don't come back crawling."

After all these years together, I had only asked for a divorce once before, when I first found out about Melina. That was the fiercest argument we had, but I was the one who backed down in the end. Dominic knew my weaknesses and how to hurt me most. But pain only comes when you care, and I no longer cared.

I held the divorce papers and told Dominic, "It's too late today; we can finalize the paperwork tomorrow."

Dominic stopped mocking me, his expression serious, and he looked at me intently, "Romina, are you serious?"

"What will you do without me?"

I gave him a sidelong glance. "Didn’t you offer me five million? That's enough for a lifetime."

"Or are you saying you won’t even give me that?"

My words seemed to amuse Dominic, and he laughed angrily. "Fine, Romina, don’t regret it."

"But I want to add a clause: after the divorce, you can't see Noelle without my permission."

Trying to threaten me? Once, this would've been my biggest vulnerability, but now I had none. Under Dominic's challenging gaze, I nodded calmly, "Alright."

He froze for a moment, then said nothing more. Meanwhile, Noelle, unaware of the tension, ran circles around her father, celebrating the chance to have a new mom. I was genuinely happy for her, that she could choose a mom she liked.

I love Noelle Kennedy deeply. After all, she is my child, a part of me that took six months of my life’s energy to bring into this world. For five years, I have poured all my patience and love into her. Meanwhile, Dominic Kennedy, her father, seems to leave her mostly to the nanny, and yet, perplexingly, Noelle adores him.

Noelle is a bit sharper than most kids. When she was three, she said to me, “Mom, you’re pretty useless. Dad doesn’t even want to come home often.” At the time, I brushed it off. Later on, when she was four, after her first encounter with Dominic’s assistant, Melina Perry, she came home and told me, “Mom, no wonder Daddy likes Aunt Melina; I like her too.”

“Aunt Melina is way better than you. She’s gentle, smart, and beautiful.”

Once, when I refused to let her have fast food, she got so upset that she yelled she wanted Aunt Melina to be her mom instead. I swallowed my discomfort, cradled her in my arms, and tried to comfort her, “Noelle, I made you a new sandwich. It tastes just like the ones from outside, and it’s much cleaner.”

But she knocked the sandwich I made to the floor, shouting, “I don’t want your stupid sandwich. I want the one Aunt Melina gets from the food truck. Even if it gives me a stomachache, I still want it. I don’t want you as my mom either; you’re useless!”

I looked at her, bewildered. The daughter I had fought so hard to have, wanting to replace me for a sandwich. There were so many moments like this. Everything Melina gave her was treasured, while everything I offered was dismissed.

I brought this up with Dominic. Initially, he told me not to argue with a child. But over time, he became annoyed and told me to think about why our daughter didn’t appreciate the things I offered.

Even for Noelle’s fifth birthday, her wish was to have Melina as her mom. When I couldn’t connect with my own daughter, what was the point?

The next morning, Dominic and I filed for divorce. After leaving the courthouse, he dropped me off at the entrance and went straight to work. When I returned home to pack, I realized I didn’t have much—nearly everything could fit into a single suitcase. Over the years, most purchases were for Dominic and Noelle.

As I rolled my suitcase out the door, Noelle was sitting on the couch, watching something on her tablet while eating a sandwich. I didn’t bother telling her not to eat it; instead, I simply said, “Noelle Kennedy, I’m leaving.”

It was only then that Noelle looked up and asked, “Where are you going?”

“You don’t need to worry about where I’m going. I won’t be picking you up from preschool anymore, so remember not to go with strangers.”

Noelle gave me a dismissive look, so much like her father’s. “Mom, you’re lying. Dad says no one likes you, and you’re just clingy with him. Romina, stop being so childish, okay? You’re too old for tantrums or threatening Dad by running away. Aunt Melina wouldn’t do anything so immature. If you want to leave, just go. I won’t miss you.”

Then she lowered her head again to the tablet. In the past, I might have gently taken the tablet away and played with blocks, gone swimming, or walked in the park with her. I would have spent lots of time ensuring she felt safe and loved. But now, I don’t care anymore. Whoever wants to take care of her can do so.

“Noelle, just remember what you said.”

With that, I turned and walked away, not sparing a backward glance at the child I had once cradled day and night, tending to her every need and ensuring her peaceful sleep when she was sick.