Gradually, my daughter stopped crying, barely eating any dinner, silent and staring out the window.
I closed the door and called my lawyer.
"Please draft a divorce agreement for me."
The sound of the door opening reached me, and John hummed a tune as he walked in.
My daughter forced a smile and ran out to take slippers off the rack for him.
"Dad, you’re back..."
John smiled, looking at his phone, casually replying with a nonchalant "Hmm."
My daughter held up her summer assignment in front of him.
"Dad, can you come with Mom and me to the museum to film the video?"
John didn’t even glance at it, pushing the paper aside, irritated.
"Work’s been a bit busy lately. I’ll come when I have time."
"When will you have time? If you don’t go now, I’ll be going back to school soon."
My usually sensible daughter stubbornly sought an answer.
While we were at a stand-off, the doorbell rang, and John excitedly opened it, bringing in a cake.
He finally put down his phone and waved at my daughter standing beside him.
"I know you were upset today, so I got you a cake. Come try it!"
My daughter instantly cheered up, running to open my door.
"Mom, come out, Dad bought us cake!"