When My Daughter Was Critically Ill, They Were in Love

My daughter had come down with acute pneumonia, but my husband said he had something urgent to take care of and told me to go home and take her to the hospital.

What could possibly be more important than our daughter’s life?

I thought at the very least, he’d wait for me to get back. But when I walked through the door, he was gone, and there she was, lying on the floor, pale and barely breathing.

My hands shook as I dialed 911, then tried calling him.

But instead of his voice, I heard hers, his first love.

“Cody’s cooking dinner for me right now. I’ll have him call you later.”

By the time I’d cremated my daughter, my husband, Cody Luke, finally called me back.

——

“Our daughter’s got you with her. Yara’s having a serious breakdown. It’s dangerous, and she needs someone with her!” Cody insisted.

I laughed bitterly. “Is she dying? Should you go die with her, too? After all, being alone in the afterlife would be pretty lonely, right?”

Cody snapped, “Riley, can you not be so cruel?”

I didn’t care to hear him yell any longer. I hung up and blocked him on everything.

My daughter was gone, and with her, my love for him was dead, too.

A few days earlier, she’d been burning up with a constant fever.

The doctor warned us she had a lung infection that could turn into acute pneumonia at any time. She needed round-the-clock care.

I quit my job to stay by her side.

The only time I left was when Cody was home, so I could run out to get what we needed.

Before I left, I made him promise, again and again, to watch her closely. He swore he would.

But as soon as I walked out the door, he left her.

And not just at any time, right when her pneumonia hit.

All so he could rush to be with his first love, Yara Lynch!

My daughter was just a little girl.

And because of him, her father, she died an awful death.

Wiping away my tears, I came home.

I used to hear her little voice call out “Mommy!” every time I walked in.

But now, there’s only silence.

And my heart aches in that emptiness.

As I reached the door, I could hear Yara's voice, dripping with guilt.

“Cody, if I hadn’t twisted my ankle and couldn’t walk, you could’ve stayed with Riley to take care of your daughter. Do you blame me?”

What a joke.

She was clearly just trying to keep Cody away from me, acting all innocent to get more attention. And Cody, like always, was eating it up.

His voice was soft, full of warmth.

“My daughter’s fine with just her mom. But you... you’re different. If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

“And honestly, if Riley can’t even handle taking care of one kid, maybe she’s not cut out to be a mother.”

Hearing that, fury surged through me.

He had abandoned our daughter right when her pneumonia flared up, the very reason she didn’t make it to the hospital in time, the reason she died.

And now he was blaming me?

I pushed the door open hard.

There they were, curled up together.

I caught a glimpse of Yara’s underwear tossed carelessly on the bedroom floor.

Yara saw me and smiled sweetly, saying, “Hi, sis,” without even bothering to move from Cody’s arms.

She faked a wince, pressing herself deeper into him, saying her ankle hurt and now she had a headache too.

Cody was quick to comfort her, fussing over her every word.

She glanced at me, a smug look in her eyes, like she was saying. You’ll never beat me.

I gave her a cold stare.

“Is my bed comfortable enough for you?”