"Yes, he cheated again. So no, I don't want him anymore."
I set down my phone and signed my name on the divorce papers without a second thought.
On the seventh day after Mom's passing—her first memorial—Dad called out of nowhere, asking me to come home for breakfast.
I thought maybe, just maybe, he still felt something for her.
That he'd want to burn paper offerings with me. Honor her together.
I was wrong.
When I walked through the door, Christina and her mother Glenda Fleming were already seated at the table.
My face went cold. I turned to leave.
"Stop right there!"
Dad's voice cracked like a whip. Before I could take another step, he launched into me.
"I heard you tried to hit Christina at the club the other day! What kind of sister does that?!"
"Thank God Kevin stepped in, or you'd have hurt her! And after all that, you want a divorce? You ran away from home?!"
"I don't know what your mother taught you, but she raised a shrew. Get on your knees and apologize before you destroy both families' partnership!"
I looked at this man—this man who only saw dollar signs where his heart should be.
A cold laugh escaped me.