Chapter 1
Olivia
“Boo!” My ex’s head appears from behind my front door, causing me to scream.
“God-fucking-dammit, Trent. Why do you have to be such an ass?” My hand is clutched tightly against my chest, trying to quell my racing heart from his jump scare.
“Is that any way to talk in front of the kids?”
Trent always does this. Shows up unannounced and jabbing me with his little judgmental comments, as if he’s such a better parent. I stuff any retorts I’d like to say behind my teeth, knowing that little ears are listening to every word we exchange.
Jasmine’s small hand pulls at my leg. “Mommy, are you going to let Daddy in?”
Right. I’ve been too busy grappling with the surprise that is Trent to move away from the door and do the proper thing of letting him in. Even though I don’t want to. He still has every right to see our kids. Though, I can’t remember the last time he actually made an effort.
“Who wants to go trick or treating?” he bellows making a scene as he pulls out two brand new princess dresses from behind his back.
The girls screech, jumping up and down as my heart plummets watching this scene unfold.
“Trent, we have plans already.” I say in a firm tone, just like the court appointed therapist suggested.
Dealing with a narcissist, you have to approach them differently than you would a normal person. A regular person would understand that swooping in at the last minute can cause a massive disruption, severe disappointment, and even heartbreak. But unfortunately, he just sees it as being spontaneous. He sees it as him being a good dad, and our daughters are the casualties of his behavior. Never mind that I had to beg work for the time off or that I’ve been looking forward to taking them out all month.
“So, cancel them.”
Of course, he would think that weeks of planning their costumes, and painstakingly ordering not one, not two, but three different choices for them because they kept changing their minds on what they wanted to be, was no big deal. His brush off festers under my skin as I watch our girls running off with their new costumes, disappearing down the hall to leave the two of us dangerously alone.
“Trent, their costumes are upstairs, and we have plans to meet up with some other kids in the neighborhood tonight.” The effort it takes to be calm while trying to get through to him deserves some sort of medal. Bronze at least.
“Okay, well now they have something they can play dress up in later. Come on Liv, it’s not that big of a deal.”
And there it is. Confirmation that he doesn’t give a shit as usual.
“I wish you would have called first so that I wouldn’t have wasted the money.” My blood is boiling, and my smile is tight, just like my finances.
“What, so I can’t show up and surprise my girls?” he steps closer to me rubbing my forearm, implying that I am still his. He reeks of cheap tobacco and stale beer.
I step back and fold my arms over my chest feeling the ghost of his unwanted touch lingering on my skin. I can’t believe I used to allow this man to touch me willingly.
“Oh, okay, whatever. I see how it is. You don’t want me to be a father to our girls? I can just leave then.” He goes to open the door. I can’t tell if he’s truly about to leave, or if it’s just another one of his manipulations.
“Daddy?” Jasmine reappears wearing a tiara crooked on her short brown curly hair that matches his coloring perfectly, and a glittery dress that isn’t pulled on all the way.
My heart twists, wondering how long she’s been standing there.
“Daddy’s not leaving, right?” I say glaring at Trent, knowing he holds the power to break our little girls’ hearts with whatever he decides.
Isobel waddles in, thumb in her mouth and a matching tiara on her head. Her bright blue eyes bouncing between me and Trent.
“Please.” I mouth, hoping he won’t just take off and crush our kids’ hearts in the process. Knowing him, he’s more than capable of it, and it wouldn’t be the first time.
“Nah, we’re going trick or treating! Grab your bags, munchkins, and let’s go.” He says after far too long of a pause.
I exhale as they take off running again.
“She’s still sucking her thumb?” He frowns as he rubs his unshaven face. I used to find it attractive, but now he just looks sloppy. He’s let his brown hair grow out to try and cover the bald spot that’s forming on the crown of his head, but it’s still clear there’s one there. He crosses his arms and fixes me with a stern judgmental glare, eyebrows raised as he waits for my answer.
“Yeah.” I say tightly, crossing my arms as well.
