Chapter 2

The next day, I held Tyler's funeral by myself.

In the small casket, Tyler wore his favorite Superman t-shirt.

I could see him so clearly in my mind, alive and vibrant. I had no more tears left to cry. Just two weeks ago, at the amusement park, he was wearing this same shirt, standing next to a Superman character and shouting, "My daddy went to save the world! Superman, I want to be a hero just like my dad!"

In the empty cemetery, only Dr. Williams showed up.

"I'm so sorry, Sarah." He placed a white rose on the casket. "If only he had been brought in sooner…"

I just nodded, unable to speak.

At 8 PM, I dragged my exhausted body home.

The door opened.

Ethan was standing in the living room, his face dark.

"Sarah, your call yesterday made me lose focus during surgery!" he started in on me immediately. "I almost had a medical accident!"

I stared at him, numb.

"And look at you. Your face is pale, your eyes are all red," he waved his hand dismissively. "It was just a cold. Was it really worth making such a fuss?"

My lips trembled, but I still said nothing.

Ethan turned and walked into the kitchen. It was the first time he had willingly stepped into the kitchen in ten years.

He took out a hardcover cookbook on children's nutrition and started flipping through it.

"Emma hasn't had much of an appetite lately. Isabella said she likes carrot soup," he said as he started prepping the ingredients.

I just watched his busy back.

This was the man who never touched a pot or pan, who once told me, "My hands are for saving lives, not for chores like this."

But now, he was carefully making soup for someone else's daughter.

"How's Tyler, by the way?" he asked without turning around.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Ethan came out of the kitchen and hugged me.

"I know it's hard on you, taking care of the kid by yourself." His voice was unusually gentle. "This weekend, let's go to the mall, the three of us. We can buy Tyler some new clothes and toys."

I looked at him, my face blank, a bitter laugh echoing in my mind.

My son was dead, and he was planning a ridiculous family outing.

"Sarah, I have some good news for you," Ethan said, letting me go, a smile on his face. "You can quit your job."

I just kept staring at him, numb.

"Isabella just moved back to Seattle and she's looking for work. That designer position you have… I pulled some strings to get it for you in the first place," he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Now you can give it to Isabella, and you can be a full-time housewife."

"I'll take care of you," he said, reaching out to touch my face. "Isn't this the life you've always wanted?"

I nodded slowly, then walked silently to my computer and opened a new document.

Ethan thought I was taking his advice, writing my resignation letter.

He nodded, satisfied, and went back to the kitchen to finish his soup.

"Emma says she loves my soup the most," his cheerful voice drifted from the kitchen. "She calls me Daddy Ethan. Having a daughter isn't so bad, right?"

My fingers flew across the keyboard.

But I wasn't writing a resignation letter.

I was writing up our divorce papers.

Ten minutes later, I printed out it.

"Ethan, sign this." I handed the papers to him.

He glanced at it quickly, then scribbled his name with a flourish.

"Great," he said happily, picking up the pot of soup. "I'm going to take this to Emma. She's waiting for me."

He hurried away, the sound of his whistling slowly fading down the hall.

I picked up a pen and signed my name on this too.

Sarah Morgan.

Soon, I wouldn't be Mrs. Morgan anymore.

I placed copies on the table, and suddenly, an incredible sense of relief washed over me.

Chapter 3

On the third day, I decided to buy Tyler some of the things he'd always wanted before I left for good.

In the Seattle toy store, the shelves were packed with colorful toys.

I stopped in the Transformers aisle.

I could still hear Tyler's voice, the last time he begged Ethan for something.

It was two months ago. After seeing a commercial, Tyler had secretly used my phone to call Ethan.

"Daddy, I really want the new Transformer. Can you play with me?"

"Tyler, Daddy's busy. Don't bother me," came Ethan's impatient reply.

"But Daddy, all my friends have one…"

"Talk to your mother about it!" The line went dead.

Tyler handed the phone back to me, his eyes full of disappointment, but then he gave me a sweet smile.

"Mommy, Daddy must be saving a very important patient, right? Daddy is a superhero, he has to protect the whole world. But… I really wish he would play with me."

It was such a simple wish, one that never came true for him.

I swept every Transformer off the shelf and into my cart.

Puzzles, building blocks, paintbrushes…

Everything Tyler had ever wanted but never gotten.

"Madam, who are you buying all these toys for?" the cashier asked curiously.

"For my son."

The moment the words left my mouth, my eyes began to sting.

I pushed the cart full of toys out of the store, only to run right into three familiar figures.

Ethan was kneeling in front of a little girl, gently fixing her hair.

Isabella stood beside them, a soft, delicate smile on her face.

"Uncle Ethan, I want that Barbie doll!" Emma pointed to a pink doll in the window.

"Of course, sweetie. Let's go get it," Ethan agreed without a second thought.

What a gentle father. They looked just like a real family.

Ethan noticed me looking and a flash of awkwardness crossed his face.

"Sarah? What are you doing here?"

"Isabella wasn't feeling well, so I was just helping her get Emma out for some fresh air," he explained.

I let out a cold laugh but said nothing.

"Uncle Ethan, didn't you say you would play blocks with me?" Emma whined, pulling on his hand.

"Of course. Let's go inside and find a place to sit and play," Ethan said, his voice full of affection.

Tyler had never been treated like that.

"I'm leaving," I said, turning to go with my cart.

"Sarah, wait," Ethan called out, catching up to me. "I'll give you a ride home."

He took everything from my hand before I could refuse, and I had no choice but to get on the car helplessly.

But the ride back was filled with a heavy, awkward silence.

When we got home, Ethan saw my packed suitcase and frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm taking Tyler on a trip," I answered calmly.

A look of relief washed over his face.

"Oh, that's great. You two should relax," he said. "Before you go, let's have a family dinner. I know I haven't been around much lately, and that's my fault."

A storm of emotion churned inside me.

I was about to scream it at him—Tyler is dead, we're divorced!

But just then, the doorbell rang.

Isabella stood there holding Emma, her eyes filled with tears.

"Ethan, Emma suddenly has terrible diarrhea. Can you please take a look at her?"

Ethan's face instantly became serious.

"Diarrhea is no small thing, especially for a child. They can get dehydrated easily," he said, immediately grabbing his medical bag. "Let's go to the hospital right now."

He left with Isabella without a backward glance.

When Tyler had a 102.5-degree fever and blue lips, he said I was overreacting.

When Emma had simple diarrhea, he said it was no small thing.

I wanted to laugh, but the anger and grief had already torn my heart to shreds.

Such a good father. Just not to Tyler.

I dragged my suitcase and all the toys to Tyler's grave.

"Baby, these are all for you," I said, placing the toys one by one in front of the headstone. "They're all yours now."

The white rose in the vase looked especially tragic in the setting sun.

"Mommy has to go now. You be a good boy, and don't miss me too much."

Ethan’s POV

At Seattle Central Hospital, in a VIP room.

Ethan was sharing ice cream with Emma, who showed no signs of diarrhea anymore.