When My Daughter was Burned to Death, My Husband Lost Contact

Meeting Nick was straight out of a daytime drama.

He was in a dark place, literally trying to end it all by drowning.

Luckily, I was there to pull him out of the water.

From there, we hit it off, and I found myself falling for him.

Before I knew it, Nick was down on one knee, proposing.

I hesitated, unsure of his true intentions—my family's wealth far exceeded his.

I feared he was after my money and the influence of my family.

Reluctantly, I said no.

But then Nick knelt before me, tears streaming down his face,

"Chloe, I don't need your money. I just want to be by your side, to care for you forever."

"I truly love you."

His words melted my heart, and I accepted his proposal.

Soon after, we welcomed Mia into the world.

Nick was ecstatic to be a father and a husband; he took to it with a zeal I hadn't seen before.

He knew how tough I found balancing work and home, so he stepped up as a stay-at-home dad.

We were even named the neighborhood's family of the year—everyone was envious.

I believed Nick loved me and our little family.

But everything changed when Jen Westwood walked back into our lives.

Nick began to come home late or not at all.

He seemed indifferent to Mia, often outright ignoring her.

Our home became a battlefield of endless arguments.

Still, he kept going back to Jen.

I considered divorce, but Mia didn't want to be away from her dad.

I felt stuck, holding off on any decisions.

Little did I know, Nick's choice would end up costing Mia her life.

Despite knowing she was in danger, he chose to help Jen with something as trivial as a jar lid.

It was clear where his priorities lay.

The guilt is mine to bear—my decisions led to the loss of my precious daughter.

Perhaps Nick was eager to be free because, without needing a prompt, he came back the next day.

I was sorting through my and Mia's belongings when he walked in with a turtle in his arms.

That turtle belonged to Jen.

He cooed at it, "Just hang in there, buddy. You'll get some meat soon."

His patience was a stark contrast to his treatment of Mia.

I felt a pang in my heart as he spoke.

Nick went to the fridge to get some meat, then remembered the kitchen was in ruins.

"Guess we're out of luck, pal. You'll have to rough it with bigger chunks today," he said, carefully tearing the meat into pieces and tenderly feeding the turtle.

I remembered how Nick would rush Mia through meals, never patient, always forcing her to eat, regardless of whether the food was too hot.

When Mia resisted, he would scold her harshly.

Now, here he was, treating a turtle with more compassion than he ever showed his daughter.

By now, Mia would have been tugging at his sleeve, begging him to play with her.

But Nick would always dismiss her, cold and detached.

Since entering the house, he hadn't even asked where Mia was.

Nick paused in the destroyed kitchen, looking lost as he searched for something.

Then he called out, "Where's that old fish tank? I need it for the turtle. Find it for me, quickly."

I couldn't contain my anger and grief any longer.

Before he knew what was happening, I slapped him across the face.

His head turned with the force of my blow, and when he looked back, his face was livid.

"Chloe, are you out of your mind? First, you used the divorce to get me here, and now you're attacking me like a madwoman?"

"I must have been cursed to end up with you and that brat!"

The sudden noise frightened the turtle, which withdrew into its shell.

Nick's tone softened as he comforted the turtle, "If this scare hurts my little buddy, you're going to pay."

I took a deep breath, suppressing the sharp pain in my heart.

"Nick, Mia is dead."