I wasn’t so sure. Last night’s phone call kept replaying in my mind. Margot’s flat, disinterested voice. The way she’d asked if she could go, like talking to me was a chore.
“What if she refuses to come with us?” I asked.
“She’ll have to. Which she knows, and it probably hurts really bad.” Mama adjusted her seatbelt. “We have to be strong. She’s our girl. Soon enough, she’ll understand what that means.”
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, driving through Cliffside Bay and then headed north to the address Nicole had given me. We drove for fifteen more miles to a new community built on a golf course overlooking the ocean. I punched in the code she’d texted me, and the ornate iron gates swung open.
“Well,” Mama said dryly. “Look how well she’s done for herself.”
The houses were massive, with more glass than walls, manicured lawns that looked like they’d never seen a child play on them, three-car garages, and pools that sparkled in the late morning sun.
Nicole’s house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac. All sharp angles and floor-to-ceiling windows, painted in shades of white and gray. A Mercedes and a Porsche sat in the driveway. Everything about it screamedlook how successful we are.
I pulled up behind the Porsche and killed the engine.
“Ready?” Mama asked.
“I’m trying not to throw up.”
“That’s my boy.”
Nicole opened the door before we even reached the stone walkway. She looked exactly like her Instagram photos—maybe better. Blonde hair fell in perfect beach waves that must havetaken an hour to achieve, skin tanned to a golden bronze that probably came from a bottle, not the sun. Slender and toned in white jeans and a silk tank that showed off a chest that definitely hadn’t been there during our marriage. Her smile was wide and warm—but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Vance, you’re right on time. Come in, come in.” She stepped back, gesturing as if we were guests at a cocktail party instead of a father reclaiming the daughter she’d kept from him for six years. “And you’ve brought your mama. How sweet.” She said “mama” as though I were five years old.
“Hello, Nicole,” Mom said, her tone polite but cool.
We stepped into a foyer of white marble and modern art. Everything was pristine—sterile. A museum, not a home. The air smelled of citrus cleaner, not crayons or cookies. No family photos. No abandoned shoes by the front door. No sign a ten-year-old lived here at all.
“Derek’s just finishing up a call,” Nicole said, leading us into a living room of white furniture and glass tables. “He’ll be out in a minute. Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?”
“We’re fine,” I said.
She perched on the edge of a chair, crossing her legs. “This is so hard for me,” she murmured, her voice dropping into a practiced tremor. “But I know it’s best for Margot. She needs her father right now.”
I bit back the response I wanted to give.She’s always needed her father. You just finally ran out of use for her.
“Where is she?” I asked instead.
“Packing. I told her to take her time saying goodbye to her room.” Nicole picked at her manicure. “I’ll miss her so much. The house will feel terribly empty without her.”
Her words were polished, but her eyes stayed dry. Always the performer.
From the back of the house came footsteps. A tall man, silver-haired, probably mid-sixties, appeared, dressed in golf clothes with an expensive watch glinting in the sunshine. Derek, presumably. He glanced at us with mild interest, as if we were furniture that had been delivered. “Nicole, we have a tee time at one.”
“I know, babe. This won’t take long.” She stood, smoothing her jeans. “Let me get Margot.” She disappeared down the hallway, leaving us with Derek.
“So you’re the ex-husband,” he said, not bothering to introduce himself. “Nicole said you finally decided to step up.”
Mama placed her hand on my arm.
“I’m her father,” I said evenly, somehow. Because I wanted to punch this idiot right in the face. “I’ve been trying to be part of her life for six years.”
“Hmm.” Derek pulled out his phone, already disinterested. “Well, good luck with that. Kids are a handful. Been there, done that.”
I stared at the man who was supposed to have been around my child, wondering how anyone could radiate so much smug indifference and still sleep at night.
Before I could respond, Nicole reappeared with Margot trailing behind her.
