The Unbridgeable Distance Between Us

The teacher explained, "An hour ago, Mr. Grayson sent his assistant to pick Edith up for an urgent matter. Didn't you know?"

"I see," I replied, masking my unease. "Please hold onto her backpack. I'm tied up."

Hanging up, I stared at our family group chat's flawless schedule, my mind reeling. "When has it become a tool to deceive me?"

I took a deep breath, opened the tracker on Edith's smartwatch, and drove to the location: an amusement park.

There, I stopped dead. Victor, in a casual t-shirt and jeans, held Helene close, their laughter warm and intimate.

Edith was riding a carousel, grinning and posing for photos. Helene snapped pictures, then leaned in to kiss Victor's cheek.

They looked like a perfect family of three, while I stood rooted, an outsider stealing glances at their happiness.

This park was famous. I'd suggested bringing Edith here so many times, but she had always dismissed me. "Mom, you're an adult. Don't be so childish. This place is a waste of time."

And Victor's packed schedule eventually made me drop the idea.

Now I saw the truth. They just didn't want to be here with me.

Watching the picky dad and daughter eat happily at a fast-food joint, I couldn't help but think back to the birthday dinner I'd poured my heart into. It had earned nothing but their cold stares.

My phone buzzed, interrupting my thoughts. An anonymous number sent a photo of the happy trio.

The caption read: [A good wife doesn't ruin her husband and daughter's fun.]

I saved the message and walked away, done with their game.

I still had the Becker Group to run.

When Edith returned home, I was packing.

Clothes and accessories had been left to the maids, and I handled important documents myself.

She looked around and pulled a long face. "Are you leaving home over something so small? Do you care how this makes me look at school? Can't you act like an adult? You're so selfish. I'm not going with you. You don't deserve to be my mom."

Her words dripped with contempt. For six years, I'd cared for her meticulously, yet she showed no reluctance to cut me off.

So, I didn't soften like I used to. Instead, I said coldly, "Perfect. I don't want you either."

Her eyes welled up, but she turned away, expecting me to coax her.

I ignored her and continued to pack. After a moment, she huffed and stormed off.

Once, Edith was bright and sweet, my little ray of sunshine. But she idolized Victor, mimicking his coldness, testing my limits until I meant nothing to her.

That was fine. I was done giving her my love.