His Countdown Changed I Left With My Kid

Chapter 3

The air in the room went perfectly still.

Rhys froze with the water pitcher in his hand. Lana's face went pale, and she touched her lips without thinking.

"I… I'm so sorry… you've got it wrong…" Her voice shook, sounding as if she might cry. "I was just so thirsty, I didn't notice I'd picked up your mug. I'm truly sorry, I'll wash it right away." She reached out to take it from him, but Rhys pulled the mug away from her.

He frowned and turned to me. "Do you really have to make such a big deal out of this?" His tone was sharp, impatient. "Lana's under a lot of pressure at work. It was an honest mistake. And you... you're the more mature one here. Can't you be a little more understanding?"

I looked at him, standing there so sure he was right.

Mature one? I am only twenty-eight. I've stood beside him and built this life for five years. Now, in front of this girl who has barely graduated, I'm being cast as the older, more forgiving one who should step back.

"If the mug means that much to you, then keep it," I said before I stood up and took Annabelle's hand. "Annabelle, we're going home."

Rhys saw I was leaving and his expression softened. He thought I was just having a little tantrum, that if he gave me an inch, I'd calm down.

He set the mug down and stepped in front of me, reaching for my wrist. "All right, don't be like that. I spoke too sharply... I'm sorry." He lowered his voice so only I could hear. "I'll come home tonight, we'll have dinner together, and we will definitely go to the amusement park today." He tapped quickly on his phone screen.

A moment later, mine chimed. A transfer had come through.

Fifty thousand dollars.

"Go to the mall downstairs and buy yourself a nice bag," he said. "Let it go, love." He looked at me as if he were doing me a favor.

He was certain, throw a little money my way and I would swallow every hurt and act like everything was fine.

I glanced at the number on the screen. Then I looked up at the number above his head. Five days.

Because he had chosen to defend her just now, the countdown had dropped by several hours.

"No, thank you." I did not tap to accept. I slipped my phone back into my bag. "I don't need a bag."

Rhys fell silent and let go of my hand. "Suit yourself," he said. His patience seemed to run out. He walked back to his desk and sat down. "I have work to finish. Take Annabelle home and I'll pick you up later."

Lana stood off to the side, dabbing at her eyes. When she looked at me, there was something like triumph in her gaze.

I said nothing more. I took our daughter's hand and walked out.

As the door clicked shut behind me, I heard Lana's soft, sweet voice. "Mr. Keaton… I think she's upset with me. Maybe I should just resign…"

"Don't worry about her," Rhys said, cold and certain. "She has too much time on her hands. She'll get over it in a day or two."

I stood before the elevator doors, watching my own calm reflection.

Yes. In a day or two. In five days, it will all be over.

By two o'clock that afternoon, Rhys had not come home.

I did not call him. I just sat on the living room floor, helping Annabelle build her blocks.

At four, a message came through.

Rhys: Something came up with the client. I can't get away. I've moved the tickets to next weekend. Be good.

I read it and felt no urge to reply.

I walked into the bedroom, pulled the suitcase out from under the bed, and started packing our clothes and documents.