Chapter 3

I let out a bitter laugh. "Beg you? Was I the only one responsible for having this child? Isn’t he your son too?

"Is raising him my responsibility alone? Don’t you share it?

"Do you even know how messed up Oliver’s mind is right now?”

Emmanuel’s expression shifted. He pursed his lips, looking at me like I was some kind of crazy woman. Then he grabbed his coat and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Oliver’s diary—his wish for me to disappear—was still lying on the couch.

Emmanuel hadn’t even bothered to turn off the light in the study as he left.

This was his pattern. Whenever a problem needed to be addressed, he’d either throw a single careless comment to light my fuse, enjoying the sight of me going crazy, or he’d storm out without a second thought.

The slamming door woke Oliver. He padded barefoot out of his room, staring at the direction his father had left.

He walked over to me and picked up the diary I had thrown on the couch.

Unbothered by the fact that I had seen its contents, he frowned and chastised me.

“Mom, why’d you make Dad mad again?”

I didn’t respond. I heard the engine start up downstairs.

The car revved a few times, then drove off into the night.

Guess I’ll be biking Oliver to school again tomorrow.

I looked at the diary still clutched in Oliver’s hand.

And at his eyes, which looked so much like his father’s.

For the first time, I realized just how deeply I was trapped.