Are you absolutely certain?”
I looked at Sophia.
She was still clutching the paper necklace she had made for her father. A little glitter had rubbed onto her cheeks. She kept looking toward the elevators, waiting for the doors to open so she could run into Dominic’s arms.
My chest ached.
“I’ve never been more certain.”
Victor did not ask another question.
“All right.”
His voice became all business.
“Give me ten minutes.”
The call ended.
Chloe laughed openly.
“Well? Did your ride cancel?”
I slipped the phone back into my purse.
“No.”
“I’m impressed,” she said. “You’re taking this better than I expected.”
“I usually do.”
She frowned slightly.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I never make important decisions while emotional.”
Around us, guests continued entering the grand hotel ballroom. Crystal chandeliers reflected across polished marble floors while photographers greeted executives arriving with their spouses.
Sophia looked up at me.
“Mommy… are we still seeing Daddy?”
I knelt beside her.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“When?”
“Very soon.”
She smiled again.
Children recover hope so easily.
Adults forget how.
Just then the elevator doors opened.
Dominic stepped out wearing a perfectly tailored black tuxedo.
He looked exactly the way he had on our wedding day.
Confident.
Handsome.
Completely unaware his life was about to change.
His left arm rested comfortably around a beautiful woman in an emerald evening gown.
With his right hand, he held the shoulder of a little boy no older than seven.
The boy laughed.
“Dad, hurry!”
Dad.
The word echoed through the hotel lobby.
Sophia heard it too.
Her little fingers slowly loosened around the paper necklace.
Dominic finally looked toward us.
His smile disappeared.
For a second, pure panic crossed his face.
Then it vanished beneath practiced confidence.
“Vivienne…”
The woman beside him looked between us.
“You know her?”
Dominic hesitated.
Only for a heartbeat.
But that heartbeat told me everything.
“She…”
He forced a laugh.
“She used to help with some community outreach projects.”
Used to.
Not my wife.
Not Sophia’s mother.
Just someone convenient to erase.
Sophia took one uncertain step forward.
“Daddy?”
Every conversation in the lobby stopped.
The little boy beside Dominic looked confused.
“Dad… who’s she?”
The woman in the emerald dress frowned.
“Dominic?”
He looked trapped.
Then he made the worst decision of his life.
He placed a protective arm around the woman beside him.
“Sophia,” he said carefully, “this isn’t a good time.”
The necklace slipped from my daughter’s hands.
It landed on the marble floor.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
The paper hearts she had glued on that afternoon scattered across the polished tiles.
She stared at them silently.
Children don’t always cry immediately.
