I Refused To Be The Light He Put Out

Chapter 2

That afternoon, Tamsin appeared on my porch holding an artisanal gift basket, her eyes puffy and rimmed in red as if she had spent the morning sobbing. "Vespera... Garrett told me you two had an awful argument and that you are pursuing a divorce. Is this because of me?"

I stared at her, a sharp, bitter sound catching in my throat.

This performance was nothing new; I had watched it play out when I was twenty. Every woman in the engineering department who tried to catch Garrett's attention pulled the exact same routine: watery eyes and the phrase "it is all my fault" resting conveniently on their lips.

"It has nothing to do with you," I answered, my tone level and calm. "I am walking away from this marriage for myself."

She blinked, visibly caught off guard. Tears hung on her lashes, poised to spill yet never quite falling. "You cannot be serious. You have been out of the industry for years. Without Garrett, how will you even manage on your own?" Her gaze swept over me, head to toe, in a slow, calculating appraisal. "Look at you. Your color is washed out, and you look exhausted. Why do we not take an afternoon at the club spa together? Once you unwind, there will be no reason to keep picking fights with Garrett."

She clearly expected those words to hit a nerve. She had no idea that I had never cared about surface posturing. Back in university, I showed up in oversized sweatshirts with zero makeup and still turned every head in the department without trying.

I picked up my glass from the counter and took a slow, deliberate sip. "Are you finished?"

Tamsin's lips parted in surprise.

"Good. Then please see yourself out." I stepped past her and pulled the door wide open. "Alden has an open house at the academy this afternoon. I will be attending."

Her expression fractured for an instant before she forced a delicate smile back into place. "Let me take care of it instead. Alden... he has grown accustomed to having me around."

"He is my son." I looked directly into her eyes, my voice dropping flat and cold. "My place is beside him."

Tamsin tried to find words, but nothing came. She stood there for a second, mouth working in silence, before she turned and walked down the path, clutching the basket tightly, defeat showing in the rigid line of her back.

The moment the lock clicked shut, I leaned against the heavy wood and let out a long breath.

Later that afternoon, I arrived at the academy thirty minutes ahead of schedule.

As I approached the doorway of the lower-school wing, my son's voice carried clearly into the hall, bright and eager. "Everyone, look! This is my mom! Pretty, right? She is a director at a major tech company. She runs entire engineering teams!"

My steps halted.

Through the gap in the doorway, I saw Alden holding tightly to Tamsin's hand, presenting her to the other parents and students with sheer pride. "She writes production code, the most advanced algorithms in the building!"

One of the boys in the front row spoke up. "Then who is the woman who picks you up from the gate every day?"

Alden paused for a fraction of a second. Then, shrugging his shoulders, he tossed out, "Oh, her? That is just the live-in nanny my dad hired. She does not do anything real. She cannot even read code."

Tamsin stood over him, smiling warmly, and smoothed down his collar. She did not utter a single word of correction.

In the next breath, Alden glanced toward the threshold. His eyes locked onto mine, where I stood motionless just outside the classroom.

The boy went rigid. The word slipped out before he could catch himself.

"Mom..." Then, in sudden panic, he clamped both hands over his mouth.

A suffocating quiet fell over the room. Every face in the gallery turned, their attention landing squarely on me. Alden's posture stiffened into defensive guilt. Then, jutting his chin out, he turned his head away and refused to look at me.

Tamsin rushed forward in an exaggerated display of distress, reaching for my arm. "Vespera, please do not misunderstand. He was only..." she made a dramatic show of trying to find an excuse for the boy, "He is just a child showing off. You cannot take his words to heart..."

Her breathless apologies only stoked the murmurs rippling through the room.

"So that is his actual mother?"

"She certainly does not carry herself the same way."

"No wonder the boy is embarrassed."

I stood there in the corridor, a dull ache spreading through my chest like slow venom.

Before leaving the house today, my only intention had been to give him one last normal afternoon. Now, standing here, every trace of that desire vanished.

I turned on my heel and walked toward the exit.

Outside, an autumn gust cut across the parking lot, biting against my skin.

I raised a hand to my cheek, only to find the chill was from the silent tears soaking my face.