"I never said I would."
"You said, 'Fine, nine o'clock.' That sounds like an agreement to me."
"Well, I changed my mind. People do that." I crossed my arms. "You can't just show up at my school. Do you have any idea how this looks? I'm trying to…" I stopped, the futility hitting me. "Iwastrying to get my job back."
"Your position has already been terminated." He said it like a fact, not a cruelty. "I'm not ruining a chance that doesn't exist. I'm offering you a different one."
"I don't want your offer."
"The salary alone?—"
"Stop." I held up a hand. "Stop talking about money. I don't need your money. What I need is not to be part of whatever disaster you have going on." The words came faster now, fueled by days of pent-up fear and frustration. "Why did your daughter run away? What kind of household makes a seven-year-old believe she's not loved? I don't know, and I don't want to find out."
He flinched. The polished mask cracked, just for a second, and underneath was something broken.
"You want to know why she ran?" His voice dropped, rough and low. "Alright, my wife… well, mysoon-to-be ex-wife toldmy daughter that her father didn't love her. Because I've been so focused on protecting Millie legally that I didn't see what was happening right in front of me." His hand raised to grab his face, but he put it back down quickly. "Maybe I am the problem. But I'm trying to fix it."
Soon-to-be ex-wife. He was getting divorced. That changed things, not everything, but something. Before I could respond, his phone shrieked to life.
The ringtone was sharp, insistent, grating against my already frayed nerves. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and his expression went completely blank. But I'd seen it, the flash of dread before the shutters came down.
"For the love of God, answer it," I said. "That sound is making my eye twitch."
He accepted the call with a curt, "Victoria."
I tried not to listen. I really did. But the voice on the other end was pitched so high with fury that it pierced the quiet room like a siren. Shrill. Accusing. I caught fragments: "...where are you... not at the office... ignoring my calls... who is she, Nathaniel... cheating, I know it... don't you dare lie to me..."
Nathaniel didn't speak. He just stood there, absorbing the verbal assault, his free hand curling into a fist. He turned slightly away, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he seemed to shrink under the onslaught.
Eleanor's door opened quietly. She took in the scene with one glance: me standing helpless, Nathaniel being eviscerated through a phone, Millie watching with eyes that understood far too much. Eleanor caught my gaze and offered me a reassuring smile.
"Hear him out," she mouthed. Then, louder, "Millie, sweetheart, would you like to come see the big globe in my office? I can show you where the penguins live."
"Okay!" Millie brightened, casting one worried look at her father before following Eleanor inside.
The door clicked shut. Nathaniel's voice, when it finally came, was dangerously quiet.
"That's enough. We'll discuss this at home."
He ended the call without waiting for a response and stood motionless, phone in hand, staring at nothing. A long, slow exhale escaped him, the kind that comes from the marrow of your bones.
"I'm sorry you heard that," he said without turning around.
"Is it always like that?"
"Often enough." He finally faced me, and the polished, sharp-dressed businessman was gone. In his place was just a tired husband. "The divorce is... contentious. Victoria doesn't take rejection well."
Eleanor's door opened again, and Millie slipped out. She went straight to her father and hugged his legs, her small face filled with worry.
"Was that Aunt Victoria? Is she being mean again?"
"Daddy's fine, pumpkin." He smoothed her hair, and the tenderness in the gesture made my chest ache. "No trouble at all."
Millie looked up at me, her gray-blue eyes far too wise for seven years old. "Daddy always gets sad when Aunt Victoria calls," she confided. "I don't like her very much."
"Millie," Nathaniel said gently. "That's not polite."
"But it's true."
